Indiscretion
by Lapis Love
Summary: Does true love ever really die? Sometimes it becomes a ball, a knot, and once you unravel it, there's more than two parties involved. They say three's a crowd. Is it? AU. Bonnie/Stefan/Damon. Cover art made my Esmeralda312.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I couldn't help myself. I had to write another one. I don't know how long this is going to be. But there is something about the Bamon/Stefonnie triangle that has me intrigued that it's really ridiculous. This is also for my dear friend PEL1. Read on if you're interested. This is AU and contains adult themes not suitable for those under 17. Just a warning.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Wake up, Damon and put your pants on."

One blue eye opened followed by the other. He groaned as he rolled on his back and winced at the sunlight that poured into the wide open bedroom and cooked his irises. Damon futilely reached for the Egyptian cotton sheets and pulled them up over his head. Soft laughter tickled his ears and he felt a warm body sit astride him.

A game of tug-o-war ensued and the woman with the svelte curves and honeyed voice won. Damon Salvatore glared at his companion and grabbed her by the swell of her hips.

"Kicking me out so soon?" he asked and dropped his eyes to the flesh that her silk robe barely covered.

Playful green eyes peered down on him as a warm smile overtook her face. Damon felt something quicken in his chest and in his guts every time she looked at him with such heartfelt sincerity. And then not before long, it was replaced with irritation.

She was everything forbidden. Everything a man in his position should never want or covet, but he did. His brother had warned him a long time ago that she was poison, had labeled her a hypnotic cancer that would systematically shut down his organs without him realizing. How right Stefan would prove to be, but then he would know best.

This was his wife after all.

Damon changed the trajectory of his thoughts. Stefan had been dead and gone for the last two years but the sting of it never ceased to have the same choking effect on Damon. They had been brothers for twenty-eight years before he went missing during a rock climbing trip in Montana. For two years they searched for his body and found nothing, and it was a vastly hard decision to declare him dead, although according to law a person had to be missing for seven years before that could be applicable.

A person could survive in the wilderness for weeks if they knew the tricks of survival, but if you didn't you had days. So it was decided to have Stefan declared dead, closing the book on such a young life.

Attending his brother's memorial service had been hard. There had been no need for a coffin because there had been no body to bury. All they had was a blown up picture of Stefan, a wreath, and lots of floral arrangements from those who supposedly cared about him.

He was the only remaining Salvatore left and it was something Damon thought of everyday and carried with him like a heavy cross.

Warm hands splayed on his chest and he moaned at the gentle sensation. This woman, this goddess had been the love of Stefan's life for six years and then one day everything was inexplicably ripped from her. Her own family had been of no help because her father hadn't approved of her relationship with Stefan. They were it for each other. Best friend. Confident. Lover. Mother and father. They filled voids that had been raw since their contentious childhoods. Stefan had walked down the path of darkness, seeking love and acceptance through casual hookups and drinking.

She had taken the road of drowning herself in her education and then later on in her work making herself into one of the top clinical psychologists in the country. To get an appointment with her, you had to wait two years.

Damon was able to skip to the head of the line. Nepotism had its perks—there was no denying it. Together they grieved their loss, they rebuilt bridges, and then before either of them realized what was happening, their late-night discussions transferred into dinners, jazz concerts, plays, and then…

A night of passion that was burned into his memory, something laser removal surgery wouldn't be able to vanquish.

And no matter how many nights he spent at her house, or she came to keep him company at his penthouse, she had been forever branded as Stefan's.

Damon knew what they were doing was wrong. But he couldn't stop. She was his addiction, and something told him that he was hers as well.

How many times had they called things off? How times had they sat down like rational adults and said that no one would approve of their union and that what they were doing was an insult to Stefan's memory. No one could overlook that fact and see the…was it love? Sometimes it felt like love, but most of the time it felt like hurt and anger manifested through powerful lust. This was their deep dark secret that could never see the light of day regardless of how many days, weeks, months, years passed.

"I have a busy morning, Damon. Appointments. Clients to soothe," she leaned forward until her nose almost touched his. "I would love to stay here with you, you know that," she pulled away. "But I have obligations to fulfill."

"Damn psychologists," he muttered. "Always thinking about the little man."

She smiled again at his impertinence and then pecked his lips. "If you get up now I'll cook breakfast, otherwise you'll have to eat at home. Tell me, when was the last time you went grocery shopping?"

"2002," he replied. She laughed.

She made a move to climb off him but Damon reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. That touch alone sent a signal straight to his lower extremities, waking him up. She was wearing his favorite scented perfume, her hair hung down her shoulders in loose curls, and she had just finished applying her make up. Her lips were still natural. She always waited until after breakfast before swathing them in lipstick.

Damon wrapped an eager hand around the slender column of her neck and pulled forward until their lips collapsed on top of one another. She purred into his kiss and ran her hands up his torso delighting in the muscles that bunched and contracted underneath her warm hands.

Damon flipped their positions. When he pulled away and stared into her moss green eyes, he wanted to tell her that he loved her. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that would destroy what they had.

When this began they agreed, nearly took out a contract this was about need and fulfilling desires, helping each other, and nothing more. Talking about their feelings in relation to how they felt about one another was forbidden. Damon had stupidly agreed because at the time he was only worried about one particular thing. There were so many mysteries to unravel and discover about her.

He hadn't been disappointed.

"What?" she asked against his optical scrutiny.

Damon was well aware of the fact she was a shrewd woman, was capable of putting two-and-two together. Some days he felt like Venetian glass and figured he'd expose his deep, inner feelings for this woman who was so wrong for him. She'd see what he felt for her and would go screaming in the opposite direction.

But then, she would act aloof as if nothing mattered beyond the four walls of this room. That bothered him—how she was able to shut off and shut down any feelings that might be bubbling up inside of her. They engaged in pillow talk but always spoke of trivial things. The content never went any deeper than discussing their careers and the people they interacted with that they made fun of.

Damon shook his head when he realized too much time had passed between her initial question.

"Nothing. Do you have plans for dinner?"

She bit her lip. "Elijah called. He's in town."

Damon's lip curled at that. Elijah Mikaelson had been circling her for years. The douche was a vulture that made it a habit of picking off women that just got out of really bad relationships, or relationships that ended abruptly like her marriage to Stefan.

"Fudge him," Damon spat. "I thought he was seeing Elena?"

She shrugged and then ran her sensitive fingers along his proud jaw line. He closed his eyes at her touch. This wasn't fair! The advantage she had over him. Some days Damon wondered if a spell or a curse had been placed on him to want this woman to the point of madness. He thought about her _all _the freaking time. When he was at work trying to finagle people out of their fortune, when he met with his personal trainer that was more of a slave driver, when he brushed his teeth, she was constantly in his thoughts.

"He _was _seeing Elena. They broke up over the summer. I could have sworn I told you about that."

He rolled his eyes. "You expect me to remember the trivial details of your friends' love lives."

She smirked. "No, I guess you wouldn't care about that. And for the record I never said I agreed to have dinner with Elijah. I know he's been looking for Mrs. Mikaelson number three for quite sometime. I'm not interested."

Damon couldn't tell you how immensely happy it made him to hear that. "Hmm, now this brings us back to my original question. Do you have plans for dinner?"

She shook her head. "I'm available."

He dipped his head and began to kiss the space where her shoulder and neck connected. This was one of her many erogenous zones. She inclined her neck to allow him better access.

"Damon…" she said breathlessly.

His nimble fingers quickly undid the messy knot holding her robe together. The pieces fell apart exposing all the parts of her he loved and craved. This woman was one large candy shop that never ran out of his favorite sweets.

"I have to get ready for work," spilled from her mouth as she thrashed her head against the pillow.

"I'm already at work," he growled.

"You're so evil," she groaned. Damon agreed wholeheartedly with that statement of fact and began to take her to new and familiar heights.

He should stop and let her finish getting dressed but that was just nonsensical. And he, too needed to make it back to his own abode and prepare for a long, boring day at the office, but there was little that could remove Damon from this bed and from her. World War III, the apocalypse could be happening right outside and it wouldn't have made a single difference to him. If he were about to die, he'd die an _extremely _happy man.

Damon repeatedly bit his tongue so he wouldn't shout towards the ceiling how much he loved her, how much he wanted to stop this childish game they had been playing and make a real commitment.

Deep down he knew she didn't want to be with him _that _way. She valued their friendship and did everything in her power to protect it. She wasn't shy about letting people know they were close but of course gave off the impression they kept certain boundaries in place. She had been about appearances from the beginning and that was probably the only area in which they clashed. She had the capability of letting her hair down and keeping it down, but she chose to be tight and stuffy because ultimately that's what she was comfortable with.

Yet when she stared at him as if she saw into his soul and threatened him to say he loved her, he was at his weakest and could deny her nothing. No matter how much he stood to lose, he'd give her all he had to give and then some.

Because at the end of the day he loved her.

Naturally the phone chose that precise moment to begin ringing. "Ignore it," he commanded.

It rang, rang, and rang, until finally her voice mail greeting clicked on. They were too busy making out to pay any kind of attention until the person who was calling identified themselves.

"_This message is for Missus Bonnie Salvatore. My name is Detective Lance Hamilton of the Bozeman Police Department in Bozeman, Montana. This may sound hard to believe but the reason I'm calling is because we believe we've found your husband Stefan Salvatore. I hate to do this sort of thing over the phone but please call me back at your earliest convenience my number is…"_

All activity stopped. Came to an abrupt end. Bonnie and Damon stared at each other with wide, disbelief filled eyes. Hastily Bonnie climbed off the bed, tripped her way to the phone, and picked it up before the detective hung up.

Damon for his part slowly came to a sitting position—jaw hanging open. They found Stefan? After all this time they finally found his brother? Was it his remains or did they find him _alive_? If it was the former…they'd finally get the closure they had been seeking for so long. If it was the latter…what the hell had he been doing for the last two years to just suddenly pop up out of the blue?

Someone had better answer his questions and fast damn it. His heart had been beating fast because he had been making love, now it was beating fast because he stood to lose the woman he loved if his brother really was alive. Stefan alive? After two years of fruitless searching? Damon couldn't believe it.

"Detective Hamilton…" Bonnie sputtered.

"Yes," the detective replied hesitantly. "Is this Missus Bonnie Salvatore?"

She vigorously nodded her head. "Yes. You found my husband?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Tears formed in her eyes. "He's a-alive?"

"Yes, ma'am…he is."

Chapter end.

**A/N: If I continue this, of course this would be a complicated story. In my other stories I always have to shy away from Bonnie being involved with both Salvatore's, but in this I can let loose. If you like, let me know. But thanks in advance for reading. Love you. **


	2. Lost and Found

**A/N: Helloooo. Here is the latest.  
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Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

There was an earthquake happening but it wasn't because tectonic plates were crashing into one another. The earthquake was happening within Bonnie. Her nerves were frayed open like a whip cracking against skin.

She ran around her townhouse searching closets for boxes. Particular boxes, the ones which held Stefan's belongings. If he were alive he would need clothes. Her vision was blurred because she was crying. Crying, laughing, and dying on the inside. Bonnie vaguely heard the hiss of the shower as Damon stood under the water washing away the sin they didn't finish committing.

Her stomach contents sloshed and several times bile hit the back of her throat as she thought about what she had been doing when she received that life-changing phone call. How did she find herself in this impossible to comprehend situation? Sleeping with her husband's brother?

Her only excuse, and it wasn't even a good one was that Stefan was dead. Well, that myth had just been debunked.

Everything with Damon started off innocently enough. They were there for each other when the call came from Stefan's friend Matt Donovan that he went out early without telling anyone. They managed to find his gear but not him. Stefan was gone. Vanished into thin air. Bonnie dropped everything and found herself on an airplane sitting next to her stone-faced brother-in-law. Back then they were virtual strangers to each other. They only saw one another a handful of times before she married Stefan, and then Damon only came around for holidays. So sitting next to him, trying to remain and think positive had been difficult.

In truth, she didn't know what to say to him.

Once they touched down in Wilsall, Montana that's where she caught a glimpse of the _real _Damon. Since he worked in the finance world she figured he'd be stuffy, cold, and detached, the complete and total opposite of Stefan. Stefan had been warm, generous, open, and loving, the kind of man she always envisioned herself marrying. The Salvatore brothers were polar opposites of one another, but it wasn't until Stefan went missing that Bonnie saw Damon as someone who was passionate. Saw him as someone who cared about and was extremely protective of his family.

He demanded answers from all parties involved. Grilled Stefan's outdoor adventures friends until they were red-faced, embarrassed, and felt guilty of foul play. Bonnie had had no choice but to step to Damon to get him to shimmer down. Assigning blame wasn't going to help them find Stefan any faster, but she could understand his reasoning.

He didn't want to think the worst either. But Bonnie was a trained, licensed professional and had seen people deny the most obvious things because their minds couldn't withstand the trauma. She had been hopeful that they would find Stefan stumbling around in the great outdoors, a little dehydrated and disoriented, but alive.

As a day turned into a week, a week into a month, until finally an entire year passed, her hope morphed into anguish. His disappearance of course attracted media attention, and Bonnie was scrutinized heavily. She was labeled everything from a helpless wife to a Black Widow. Yet the media circus died down when it became apparent Stefan wouldn't be resurrected, that he wouldn't come hopping out of a tomb. He was gone.

Damon had been right there beside her every time some hiker or local citizen claimed they saw a man fitting Stefan's description drinking coffee at Denny's, or that he might have broken into someone's timeshare log cabin.

Damon had been quick to throw out threats of possible lawsuits if people didn't stop contacting them, using his words now, "with this bullshit".

When the one year anniversary of his disappearance rolled around, Damon had flown into town from New York where he mostly worked. He had arrived on her doorstep with a bottle of her favorite wine, but Bonnie had beaten him to the punch. She had been drinking since the night before and was more than a little inebriated.

But Damon had taken control. He showed another side to his mysterious personality. He made her homemade chicken noodle soup, sat with her in silence as she held on to Stefan's favorite sweater and cried her eyes out.

He never once passed judgment or yelled at her to move on. He was in just as much pain as she was, probably more so because his history with Stefan was longer, and that was his blood. Nothing could separate blood. But Bonnie could be separated from Stefan through and by divorce or…

Death.

Bonnie was sure that Sheriff Forbes and one of her trusty deputies was on their way to her home to inform her of the news. She was dressed in nothing but her robe, naked underneath, and her brother-in-law…his clothes lay scattered throughout her home. He even had a packed bag that he kept here when he stayed over.

Her trembles returned and Bonnie forced herself to sit down and breathe evenly through her nose.

She loved Stefan with every fiber of her being. Yet as she directed her eyes to the closed door of the bathroom and thought of the man standing on the other side, a pressure so painful and sharp that it took her breath away pierced her. She couldn't lose Damon. He had been so wonderful and such a pillar of strength that without him around, Bonnie felt she might crumble.

And despite what he probably thought of her feelings towards him, she didn't only view him as a source of comfort and physical contact. He meant so much more to her than that. Yet realistically Bonnie could only allow her feelings for him to develop so far. Because in the back of her mind she was still Stefan's wife.

Her eyes closed and behind her lids she replayed the first day she met Stefan.

* * *

><p>It was springtime, Paris in 2006 and Bonnie had just had a horrible morning. Her fun night out with friends lasted til the wee hours of the morning, and she failed to turn on her alarm clock to wake her so she wouldn't be late for Dr. Henri Duval's lecture. Her tardiness earned her a special sermon that left her feeling…less than competent. But Bonnie sucked it up because everyone was entitled to a slip, a mistake, so long as she didn't repeat it she felt content she was still one of his favorite students.<p>

To ease her mind, Bonnie went for a stroll around one of her favorite places in Paris—St. Eustache Church. Most of the time she stared at the beautiful cathedral, or she brought a book to read, or sat and spoke with her Parisian friends on the phone.

The sun had been shining bright. It had been a beautiful and warm day to be outside. All around tourists and natives walked through the pavilion, some stopping to take photos of the giant head sculpture called "Ecoute". And it was at that moment one such tourist caught Bonnie's attention.

He stood not more than ten feet from her, holding a professional looking camera up to his eye as he paced back and forth taking different shots and angles of the sculpture. Bonnie gave him a thorough perusal since he was distracted and his back was to her. He was about five-ten, five-eleven in height with a swimmers build, and perfectly styled caramel hair.

"Please be hot," Bonnie mumbled to herself as she watched the way his burgundy T-shirt clung to his torso, and how his dark denim jeans molded to his legs.

As if hearing her request, the guy turned around yet he had his eyes glued to the LCD screen of his camera looking back over his photo history.

And it was at that moment Bonnie felt someone hit her smack in the face with a sledgehammer. He was gorgeous! Mind you, she had seen her fair share of hot men up and around Paris. It was like they were manufactured off an assembly line. And quite a few of them attempted to sweep Bonnie off her feet into a whirlwind fling but Bonnie had rebuffed them all. Honestly she was there for educational purposes and didn't need or want the distraction, but there was just something about _this guy _that drew her in a like moth to a flame.

But Bonnie stood arrested in her spot, tilting her head a little to the side. He had a masculine face, a handsome face that appeared as if it had been chiseled from stone. She guessed him to be around her age, maybe a little older.

Suddenly he looked right at her and Bonnie may have gasped before she quickly tried to figure out which direction she wanted to head towards. She nearly crashed into an elderly couple as she attempted to make her escape. Blushing profusely Bonnie apologized, and quickly glanced at the handsome stranger. His eyes never left her and she could clearly see the amusement dancing in his bluish-green orbs. He had deep-set eyes framed by long lashes hidden underneath thick, perfectly formed eyebrows. His pale pink lips stretched a bit in a smile.

Bonnie stared down at her feet, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear determined to leave the area with her dignity intact. However, she wanted one more look at him because after this moment she pretty much figured they'd never cross paths again. Paris was a fairly large city and she didn't come to St. Eustache Church often.

Her heart quickened when she realized he was snapping pictures of her. Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks and frowned at him. Didn't he know it was impolite to take pictures of people without asking permission first? At least that was the custom in America.

Licking her lips she casually approached him. He was still clicking away. "Excusez-moi." (**Excuse me**)

The guy halted in taking photos of her. "Pardon. Je devine que je devrais avoir demande' d'abord." **(I'm sorry. I guess I should have asked first)**

He spoke with a perfect accent but it was easy for Bonnie to discern that French was not his native tongue. "Vous parlez anglais?" **(Do you speak English?)**

"Oui," he smiled. "I mean yes."

Bonnie dropped the French act. She wouldn't call herself fluent in the language but knew enough to get by and to have a simple conversation.

"Good," she breathed and then licked her lips again preparing to light into him. It was one thing for casual strangers to share a flirty look or two, but it was an entirely different matter when someone took pictures of her without her expressed permission. He could be a pornographer for all she knew.

"It's very rude to take pictures of someone without asking. I could be in the witness protection program. The last thing I need to see is my face plastered all over the Internet," she blasted him.

The guy stood across from her attempting to look deeply chastised but Bonnie's eyes narrowed when she realized he was trying to keep from laughing and was failing like a sinking ship.

"Now you're laughing at me," she threw up her hands.

He shook his head. "No, it's just that I've never heard anyone say that before. Very creative," he held out a hand. Bonnie stared at it before accepting the offer. "I'm Stefan. Stefan Salvatore. It's nice to meet a fellow American."

As much as she wanted to keep her annoyance intact, Bonnie felt it dissolve like Alka Seltzer tablets in water. He had such a nice voice and now she had a name to place with a face she already knew would be haunting her dreams later.

His palm was warm, large, and strong. Just the way she preferred. Her father had drilled it into her head that you could tell a lot about a person from their handshake. He said it was possible to measure the level of someone's sincerity and integrity. She didn't buy into all of that, but there was something about Stefan that instantly put her at ease despite the fact he was a virtual stranger. Right now the only things they had in common were the fact they were from the same country, and were in Paris in this season.

"Bonnie Bennett," she gave him her real name and not the alias she invented for herself to keep the clingy, stalker types at bay.

"Bonnie. Can I ask you something?"

She shrugged.

"Do you want to know what the best view in Paris is?"

"What?"

When he remained silent and stared intently at her, Bonnie felt her cheeks flame. At the compliment Bonnie dropped her eyes to her sneakers. Stefan barely resisted leaning over and tilting her head back up by the bottom of her chin. She was adorable, doll-size, and when he looked at her, there was just something that said "home" to him.

"Very smooth," she said.

He grinned confidentially. "I thought so, too, but it's the truth."

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Stefan Salvatore…sounds Italian," Bonnie regained her courage and confidence and looked back up at him. He wasn't an overly tall man but still towered over her by a significant amount. She didn't feel threatened, only protected like he might jump in front of a speeding bullet for her.

Okay, Bons slow down. You just met the man and already you're trying to turn him into a superhero.

Stefan nodded his head. "It is. It's where my grandfather was born but moved to America in the early…well it was a _very_ long time ago."

Bonnie chuckled a bit. "Have you ever been to Italy?"

"I used to summer there up until my sophomore year in high school."

"Very cool." Bonnie could talk to him all day, but she didn't want to keep him from what he was doing, and figured it was best to leave now. "Well, I won't keep you from taking your photos. Do you do that professionally or just for kicks?"

And it was at that moment he realized he was still holding his camera in his hand. "A little bit of both actually. I'm more like an apprentice, but a photographer all the same. I was just trying to get a little inspiration going. I don't want to sound forward, but your face as so many amazing and interesting angles, if you're open, and that's only if you're open, I'd like to take more. I work at a studio not far from here. No pressure. I know you don't know me from Adam."

"I'd love to," Bonnie blurted and blushed again.

Stefan hesitated. He hadn't expected her to accept so easily. He had an entire speech prepared that had now been rendered pointless.

"Great," he reached for his cell. "What's your number?"

Bonnie had given him the number to her dorm room on campus. He would have to earn her cell phone number.

"You can call after seven. My last class of the day ends around five and a couple of my friends and I meet up for dinner and drinks." Why was she giving him all this personal information?

Stefan nodded his head before sticking his phone in his back pocket. "If you don't mind we asking, but what are you studying?"

"Clinical psychology."

"So you want to help people who suffer from disorders?"

Bonnie nodded. "Something like that."

"A very respectable profession," and he hadn't said it in a sarcastic way. "Well, I won't keep you." Stefan stretched out his hand again. "It was nice meeting you, Bonnie Bennett."

When she took his hand this time there was definite sparks. Bonnie wasn't sure Stefan had felt them but when she looked into his eyes, getting lost and stumbling around, she did see they had darkened to a deeper blue. They began to burn her. Her mouth instantly went dry and the noise of the crowd began to ebb away. Her eyes suddenly came down a severe case of tunnel vision and all she could see was Stefan.

For the first time in so long Bonnie wanted to pump fresh blood into her love life. Everyone she had grown close to in Paris had someone they were intimate with, not necessarily having lots of wild sex, but someone they could show the fullness of their personalities to, someone to be there for them when they were having a bad day. She had her girlfriends but it was nothing like releasing the stress of her rigorous master's program in a pair of strong, muscular arms.

And much to her surprise, instead of letting her hand go, Stefan brought it up and kissed her knuckles. His lips were petal soft and warm and her lips began to tingle in anticipation. Having such a strong, magnetic physical attraction with someone was a virgin area for Bonnie. She was equally thrilled and cautious of it.

"It was nice meeting you, Stefan."

They parted ways but not without constantly looking back at one another.

That night Bonnie had tossed and turned in her sleep until the blaring of her dorm room phone kick started her heart. She checked the time on the clock, saw it was a little after midnight. Her roommate Nicole was zonked out and normally she was the one to receive phone calls at all hours of the night.

"Hello?" Bonnie asked fully prepared to shake Nicole into consciousness to schedule her booty call.

"Hi, can I speak to Bonnie?"

She frowned. "Who is this?"

"Stefan Salvatore."

Her eyes widened and Bonnie nearly dropped the phone. She clicked on her desk lamp, hopped out of bed, and unwrapped her hair as if Stefan could see her. Bonnie realized she was being ridiculous and calmed herself.

She got back on the line and stayed on the phone with Stefan until sunrise.

By the time they saw each other again, she felt as if she knew everything about Stefan. They had discovered they were from the same city, but Stefan's father had relocated the family to Connecticut after his mother's passing from cancer when he was in the eighth grade. Bonnie confided in Stefan that she hadn't spoken to her birth mother in fifteen years, but they were now slowly starting to repair the bridge Abby Bennett-Wilson burned when she left town without notice.

Over dinner they learned they harbored resentment towards their parents. Stefan resented his mother for leaving him motherless and with a demanding father who could never be pleased. Bonnie had harbored resentment towards her mom and dad—her mom for obvious reasons, and her dad for taking his pain and hurt out on her.

On their first "outing" neither one wanting to call it a date, Stefan had taken her on a tour of his studio where he spent sixteen hours or more trying to create the next great masterpiece. Bonnie listened intently as Stefan gave her a thorough history of art and photography. He talked with his hands, and shamelessly she wanted those hands to fondle her chest and go up her skirt. But Stefan had a way of relating art to life that Bonnie wanted to pick up a camera to see what she might discover. There was an energy about Stefan that was infectious and contagious and Bonnie certainly didn't want to be inoculated against it.

Afterwards they went to one of his favorite restaurants, shared wine and more stories about their pasts, and ended the night, holding hands and walking through a local park.

Her grandmother's teaching about how a lady should behave on the first date began to harp in Bonnie's ear when Stefan returned her to her dorm. They stood outside talking, and making future plans to meet up for lunch later in the week.

Stefan had such intense eyes that whenever he gazed at her, Bonnie was unable and unwilling to look away. Her cheeks had been on fire all night, and she constantly had to give herself pep talks to take things slow.

He cupped her cheek and drew closer to her. Bonnie's eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted just so. At first his kiss was exploratory, just a gentle press of his lips against hers. Bonnie had been the one to grab him by the lapels of his button down, pulled him forward to fully crush her lips against his. Stefan had chuckled, tightened his hold around her waist, and pulled her flush against his chest.

Their tongues teased one another, circled, and dueled and the match that been struck between them was an inferno by the time they came up for air.

"They _are _as sweet as they look," Stefan whispered before leaning in to take her lips again.

From that moment on they had been inseparable.

Falling in love in Paris…there was nothing like it in the world.

Snapping back to the present Bonnie swiftly rose from the edge of the bed, entered her closet and began rifling through the custom built drawers looking for underwear and clothes. She needed to hop in the shower but there was no way in the world she could share the same space with Damon.

The bathroom door chose that precise moment to swing open. A cloud of steam preceded his exit as he walked out wearing nothing more than a chenille towel draped around his lean hips with his obsidian hair pushed back off his forehead.

Bonnie kept her eyes glued to her feet as she locked herself in the bathroom. She showered without thought. Scrubbed her face, brushed her teeth, and got dressed.

When she stepped back into her bedroom, stripping the bed, she heard Damon speaking with someone. She frowned and wondered if Sheriff Forbes had arrived but was relieved, as she entered her kitchen, that that wasn't the case. Bonnie found herself unable to look away from him. He was fully dressed in the Armani suit he wore last night, looking like the Senior Vice President of Finance that he was. He more than made himself at home in her kitchen, as he poured two cups of coffee and barked out orders on his Bluetooth.

Bonnie released a deep breath. There were suits that wore men, and men that wore suits. Damon definitely fit the bill of the latter. Nearly everything he owned was tailored to fit his body, throw in his electric blue eyes, crop of midnight black hair, and those devastating features, and Bonnie could admit to being proud of herself for staying immune to his handsomeness for as long as she did.

However, there had been Stefan. The man of her dreams brought into reality. He was everything she wanted and then some and out of nowhere…

There was Damon. Even now, Bonnie burned for his touch. Yet she reprimanded herself because those days of being able to just fall into his arms, get lost in his eyes, and have him kiss her fears away were over. That part of her life which had been such a huge factor had to come to an abrupt end. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. Raw mostly, but letting him go…Bonnie knew it was the right and only thing to do. She couldn't have it both ways.

Damon ended his call and stared at her from across the kitchen. He held up the mug in invitation. Bonnie very tentatively approached him. The closer she got, the more she felt her mouth drying up. His cologne tickled her nose and all she wanted to do was engrain his scent deep into her soul.

Bonnie accepted the mug making sure their fingers didn't touch or overlap.

"My boss has agreed to let us use his private plane to fly out to Montana," he sighed and studied her reaction. "I still can't believe he's alive."

"I can't believe it either." Tears were welling up in her eyes and Bonnie looked away.

Damon was two seconds from pulling her into his arms when the door bell chimed. Neither one made any move to go answer it. Bonnie looked up at him again to find Damon never stopped looking at her.

She was afraid of that unguarded look on his face, and by the openness to his eyes. He was bearing his soul before her and Bonnie didn't know what to do. She couldn't possibly be its possessor any longer. Her marriage—which never really ended— had to be her primary focus from this moment forward.

Bonnie swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry, Damon." She apologized.

He stared at her strangely. "What are you apologizing for? None of what happened is your fault. We were there for each other. And I'm still going to be there for you."

Her face cracked into a spontaneous smile, not because what he said made her happy, no it made her the total opposite. She didn't deserve him and from her adulterous actions she didn't deserve Stefan either.

"I'm not going to ask you to do that. I can't," she looked up at him again.

She really didn't have a choice because he couldn't leave her alone. Not yet anyways.

The door bell sounded once more.

Damon reached over and wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. He would miss touching her, miss the freedom of being close to her just because he could.

Damon cursed inside his head. Why did life have to be so unf*cking fair to him?

"I guess one of us is going to have to answer that," he said through the tightness clogging his throat. He stepped around Bonnie and answered the front door. As expected it was Sheriff Liz Forbes with one of her nameless, faceless deputies.

The sheriff only seemed mildly surprised to find Damon at Bonnie's townhome. "Damon…good morning."

He smiled civilly enough and stepped aside so she could enter. "Good morning, Liz…deputy," he addressed the thirtysomething male who waltzed in—stone faced.

Bonnie crept out of the kitchen rubbing her itchy palms along her jean covered thighs. "Sheriff Forbes," Bonnie greeted.

Liz stared at Bonnie in sympathy and with a large sense of relief that the mystery surrounding Stefan's disappearance was over, and that they were able to add "happily ever after" to the end of this story.

Far from it.

"Detective Hamilton told me that he's already spoken with you and shared the news."

Bonnie motioned towards the living room. No one spoke again until everyone sat down. Damon had chosen to remain standing.

"Yes, he did," Bonnie replied. "I want to get out to Montana as soon as possible, but do I need to verify that it's Stefan first?"

Liz nodded her head and then reached into the manila folder she brought along with her. She pulled out a printout and handed it over to Bonnie.

The minute Bonnie saw the photo she burst out into tears. Damon, acting purely on instinct, laid a hand on Bonnie's shoulder and then stared at the image of his brother. Alive…two years later.

Liz gauged both of their reactions closely.

Bonnie turned and stared up at Damon. "It's really him."

He nodded his head and took a deep breath. He had to be strong for Bonnie. "Has anyone from your office spoken with Stefan?" Damon asked.

"I did," Sheriff Forbes replied. "Very briefly. He's been a patient at the local hospital for a few days. He's just waiting to be reunited with his family."

"I don't understand," Bonnie interjected. "How was he found? Where has he been for the last two years?"

"Stefan wants to explain all of that himself."

"So dramatic," Damon said and cracked a tiny smile. "Thank you, Sheriff."

Liz nodded her head and rose to her feet. "I'm glad he's alive and that now you two can move on with your lives."

Bonnie and Damon stared up at Liz wondering who she was making that comment in reference to. Nevertheless, the sheriff and her deputy showed themselves out. Alone again, Damon sat down beside Bonnie, one arm wrapped around her shoulder as they stared at the latest image of Stefan.

"When I see him," Bonnie spoke, "I am going to kill him."

Damon chuckled. "Not if I kill him first." He couldn't help himself, he not-so-impulsively kissed her temple.

The warmth of his kiss spread through her resulting in Bonnie jumping up from the couch. "I need to pack."

Damon remained on the couch for a minute before rising to his feet. He entered the bedroom and purposely kept his gaze far away from the bed.

"We'll leave as soon as you're packed."

Bonnie nodded absently as she threw her suitcase on top of the disheveled bed.

"Bonnie?"

She paused and stared at Damon.

His mouth opened but words did not follow. There was too much he wanted to say to her, and not enough time to get it out.

"I'll be back shortly."

She nodded again and watched as he turned slump shouldered and left her home. As one love returned, another just walked out of her life. She was undeniably screwed.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Up next, the reunion. Just fair warning…this story will be depressing at times, heartfelt in others, and deviously seductive periodically. You've been warned. Thank you so much for reading and taking a chance on this AU fic. Love you guys!**


	3. A Mind Apart

**A/N: Hi everyone. Here is the long awaited reunion. Just an additional disclaimer, I am no medical doctor, nurse, or hold any special degrees in the medical field and I say that to say that I do attempt to explain what happened to Stefan. Other than that, enjoy.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property (except my OC's) of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Her stomach was in knots. His stomach was in knots. Their panic, worry, and anxiety over the situation was born out of the same place but were headed in different directions. Bonnie was jittery about being reunited with Stefan after only seeing him in her dreams for the last two years. Not only that, but how in the world would she be able to look at him knowing that not twenty-four hours ago she smelled like his brother's skin.

Damon wanted his brother back. There had never been any question about it. Back when they were younger they shared an unbreakable bond. Stefan looked up to him as the infallible, wise older brother, but when Damon was shipped off to boarding school in England to get a quote-en-quote diverse education, their bond weakened until they were merely formal strangers with one another.

Then their mother's health took a turn for the worst and Damon was promptly shipped back home to be with his family, they were able to renew their bond.

However it almost seemed too little, too late because Stefan didn't handle their mother's death well at all, and Damon never really grieved anyone so they fought more than anything, and pushed one another away.

Yet things changed again when Stefan introduced him to his future wife.

For Damon it hadn't been instant attraction or love at first sight, the first time he saw Bonnie. He thought she was cute enough, knew his brother had dated prettier girls in the past, but Bonnie centered Stefan in a way where all of his previous relationships had failed. He could pinpoint the difference now after getting to know Bonnie for himself. She had an old soul. Just like Stefan. They connected on a level that went above and beyond just physical attraction. They were, and he hated to use the word but it applied with them—kismet.

When he ate dinner with them when he was in town, Damon had spent most of his time throwing up in his mouth. How could two people fawn all over each other and not get sick of it after a while? He wouldn't go so far to say they smothered one another—no let's be real—they were each other's shadow. Personally Damon had dated his share of beautiful and exotic women, each of them had been handpicked by his shrewd eye and brought with them connections which helped him in his career. But after awhile they all began to feel manufactured and artificial.

They didn't know him—really know him and if he were honest with himself he didn't want to get to know them either. In his twisted mind, Damon thought if anyone really knew him in and out that they could weld some type of power over him. It might have seemed illogical to think in this manner, but growing up in a house that was devoid of these basic things: love, honesty, and kindness who could really blame him for being selfish in holding back in that regard?

Yet getting to know Bonnie, seeing her at her lowest, emotionally speaking, and seeing her at her happiest opened up his eyes to what he was missing. Life wasn't about mergers and acquisitions and what new "toys" he could rack up, and a 401(k), it was about sharing your life with someone and then later creating life.

He was in his early thirties now. His playboy days were over. Damon had officially handed over his Billionaire Boys Club membership the day Stefan went missing. He wanted his own version of happily ever after, unfortunately his Cinderella, his Snow White, his Sleeping Beauty belonged to another handsome prince.

Silence engulfed the taxi ride to the tarmac where Damon's boss' plane was fueled and waiting for them. The flight would be a long one since they were in essence flying from one end of the country to the other. And this would be their last opportunity to be completely alone.

Bonnie walked up the steps and entered the cabin of the plane. She typically flew commercial and in first class so being on a private jet definitely made her feel she was seriously lacking in the wealth department. Bonnie had her assets stored away, and Stefan, he entered their marriage with an overflowing trust fund that he never touched. It had been important for him to make his own way in life; not to live off the money his family procured after hard, back-breaking work.

She moved uneasily through the cabin which mostly resembled a private study in a mansion. Her eyes landed on the presidential like seats, the long cream sofa, the polished cherry wood paneling. Plush carpet rested under her feet.

Damon brought up the rear carrying his laptop satchel. He would attempt to get some work done and hopefully it would provide enough of a distraction from the fact that only he, Bonnie, the lone flight attendant, and two pilots were the only people on the plane.

He sat his satchel down on one of the overstuffed leather chairs and braced his hands on his jean covered hips. Once he arrived back at his apartment he changed out of his monkey suit as he lovingly referred to his expensive tailored business suits, into a pair of well worn jeans—Bonnie's favorite, a navy blue knit sweater with a cowl neckline, and his black Durango boots.

With her back to him Damon shamelessly stared at Bonnie. She was attired in pair of chocolate leggings, her dark brown equestrian boots, and a curve hugging cream sweater. Her loose curls from earlier were gone and her locks were now pin straight. She wore minimal makeup and left her lips natural just the way he preferred them.

He shook his head. Her lips were no longer _his _lips and he had better remember that.

"It was really generous of your boss to let us use his plane," Bonnie turned to face Damon, offered him a shaky smile before taking a seat on one of the overstuffed chairs. Damon sat across from her at the small table that was wedged between them.

"He's known about Stefan's disappearance since day one. And he said if there was anyway he could help, all I needed to do was ask. So here you have the fruits of my boss' altruism."

Their flight attendant, a beautiful Filipino woman probably in her early to mid-twenties entered the cabin. Her eyes immediately lit up like the Fourth of July the minute they landed on Damon. He, of course was paying her absolutely no attention.

Bonnie saw this and felt her face pucker as if she ate a lemon. She realized what she was doing, shook her head, and looked down. She listened as the Flight Attendant went through her drills and spiel about plane safety and their estimated time of arrival.

Damon thanked her and quickly dismissed her, ordering her not to bother them unless summoned. Her expectant face fell at Damon's curtness. She darted her eyes between Bonnie and Damon with a question mark creasing her forehead.

The minute she was gone, Damon went over to the mini-refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. He handed one to Bonnie who was beginning to look lethargic. Memories from last night crashed into him and he remembered that they had woken up twice during the night because their passion just wouldn't be sated.

"Bonnie, you should rest. We've got a long flight ahead of us, and you didn't get much sleep last night."

She forced herself to look at him. The sunlight that poured into the small oval shaped windows bathed him in light, turning his blue eyes, silver. All she could see were his pupils that continuously dilated.

"I will the minute we're in the air," she replied. Her body was heavier than normal but her heart was pounding and the palms of her hands were itching.

Damon retook his seat and played with the bottle cap, pushing it back and forth across the table. This was a first for them—not being able to say more than twenty words to each other at a time. Usually conversation flowed like champagne at a wedding. But what could they possible talk about that wouldn't dig the hole deeper between them? That wouldn't remind them of the very real fact they betrayed Stefan?

The Captain's voice boomed over the PA system, startling the both of them. They listened intently to his instructions and snapped on their seat belts.

Bonnie stared outside and watched as the plane began to crawl down the tarmac, gaining speed, until finally it lifted off the ground.

So long Mystic Falls, hello Bozeman, Montana.

Bonnie took her seat belt off when they were told they were free to move about the cabin. She paged their flight attendant and asked for a pillow and a blanket, intending to sleep on the couch.

"Oh," Kimera, the flight attendant said, "I think you would be more comfortable in the bedroom."

Bonnie's eyes widened. "There's a bedroom?"

Kimera nodded her head, walked to the rear of the plane, and tapped the wall. A hydraulic door opened revealing the bedroom which offered a full sized bed.

Bonnie gulped nervously and kept her gaze diplomatically away from Damon. "No, that's okay," she laughed nervously. "I'll be fine right here."

Kimera kept her smile in place. "Well, if you change your mind I'll just leave this open for now. Will you need anything else, Mrs. Salvatore?"

"No, thank you, Kimera."

She smiled and then swung her attention to Damon who was pecking away on his laptop. "Do you require anything else of me, Mr. Salvatore?"

Damon kept his eyes glued to the screen of his laptop. "No, Kimera. Thank you."

She sighed quietly to herself and went back to her little cubby towards the nose of the plane, closing the door after her departure.

The second she was gone, Damon gave up the pretense of working. He had been in the middle of sending an email giving final instructions to his executive assistant when he accidentally typed the word _breast _instead of _best _when Kimera mentioned the bedroom.

Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat and watched Bonnie as she spread the blanket over her as she stretched out on the couch. It was smaller than a regular family couch, but there was enough room for her. Barely.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch, Bonnie. Use the room. It's why Alaric had it built."

His concern was beginning to irritate her. She would be in much better spirits if he would remain mute so she could screw her head on straight. But now he wanted to be the caring man he had been when her world first fell apart.

"I'm all right, Damon. Just…" her body began to shake. "I'm just cold. Can you close the door to the bedroom? I think there's a draft coming from there."

He stared at her for a second before getting up to fulfill her request. His eyes lingered on the comfortable looking bed regrettably for a second prior to closing the door. When Damon walked back to the main part of the cabin, he switched directions and loomed over Bonnie.

She felt him standing over her despite the fact her eyes were closed. Reluctantly she opened them and felt her heart melted painfully in her chest. Wordlessly she scooted over on the couch, making room for him. Damon folded his five-ten frame on the couch, getting as physically close to Bonnie as the small space dictated. She covered his legs with the blanket and then transferred her head to his chest.

For the first time in hours Damon felt his nerves calming down. Resting the bottom of chin on the crown of her head, his arms going around her, he matched his breathing with Bonnie's.

They were quiet.

"Please," she said softly, "tell me everything will work itself out for the best."

Damon didn't say anything. He wasn't going to lie to her and what would be the point. She was a psychologist but on top of that she was a woman. She knew situations like this didn't end well for all parties involved.

_Now he wants to be quiet_, Bonnie thought and adjusted her head so she could look up at him. She had seen that hard expression on Damon's face before, and knowing she was partly the cause of it, hurt.

"I'm asking for too much. I know that," she continued, needing to talk. "I know I'll feel more like myself when I see Stefan. Do you think he had amnesia? Or do you think he just didn't _want_ to come home?"

Damon shook his head. He knew how much Stefan had been in love with Bonnie. There wouldn't have been any reason on planet earth that he would just suddenly decide to walk away from his marriage without warning. More than likely, his brother had an accident of some sort that resulted in memory-loss. Maybe some locals took him in, nursed him back to health, and then…

Never contacted the authorities about a man they found out of thin air?

Now that just didn't add up to Damon.

"I think its amnesia. That's the only plausible explanation but I don't understand how, whoever it was that found him, never reported his appearance to the police. That's the part I don't get. And I don't see Stefan asking anyone to keep his recovery a secret. Unless my brother is a special operative and was doing a top secret mission in Afghanistan."

Bonnie snorted.

Damon tightened his arms around her. "Rest. We'll get answers soon enough."

* * *

><p>The chiming of the PA system woke them both up. Bonnie stretched her arms and legs, Damon rotated his neck. His shoulder was burning because Bonnie had a majority of her weight resting on it.<p>

"What did he say?" Bonnie croaked and yawned.

"We'll be landing in another thirty minutes." He tried to ignore Bonnie squirming against him as he rested his right leg on the floor.

She blinked her eyes and looked up at Damon. His eyes were still closed. She became aware of the fact that her hand was resting on his belt buckle.

Bonnie didn't snatch it off, but she did try to discreetly remove her hand. This of course made Damon's eyes snap open as heat flared through his body. He shifted until he could look down at her, surprised to find Bonnie returning that heady look. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his bottom lip. The motion had been successful in drawing Bonnie's attention.

Just one little kiss. A goodbye kiss. After this he could officially put what they had behind him, be the bigger person and release her from their…entangled web, and he could move on.

His head descended at the same time Bonnie's eyes closed and she inclined her head allowing him better access.

However, she turned her head away and then quickly scrambled off the couch. She began to pace and ran a hand through her hair.

"What am I doing?" Bonnie said mostly to herself. "I'm about to be reunited with my husband after two years and I can't keep my lips or hands off my brother-in-law."

Ouch! When she put it like that it sounded pretty perverted and disgusting.

Damon planted both of his feet on the floor and buried his hands in his hair. "I'm trying, Bonnie." He rose to his feet suddenly and stood in front of her. "I'm trying to pretend that I don't know how we are when we're together; that I don't know what you taste like or feel like; that I don't know all your little quirks. This is just as hard for me because this is my brother. I started this whole thing between you and me."

Out of habit Bonnie reached for his hand. "You can't blame yourself for this because I didn't stop you, Damon," she argued. "I wanted it to happen," she sighed. "We are in a huge clusterf*ck, there's no denying it, and I don't want to hurt you. I don't mean to hurt you. But we need to be real about the situation. I'm married to your brother."

Damon looked down at their joined hands, stared back at Bonnie, and slipped his hand out of hers.

Her lower lip trembled as she watched him walk away from her towards the bedroom. He opened the door, entered, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>They didn't say anything as they walked off the plane and were met by the lead detective on the case, Lance Hamilton and his partner Mary Willis. For the first time in her life Bonnie rode in the back of a squad car as she and Damon were chauffeured to the hospital.<p>

Her leg began to bounce around nervously as she nibbled on her thumbnail. Each mile that passed brought her much closer to her husband.

Damon kept his gaze locked out the window looking at all the greenery. Montana was a beautiful state but he wasn't here to admire the grandeur but to collect his brother and ultimately unite him with the woman he loved.

For Damon, as they drew closer to the hospital it became harder to breathe and swallow.

He and Stefan hardly shared the same tastes in anything. Not music, movies, entertainment, or women. Stefan liked artistic chicks that spent more time with their noses buried in a book whereas Damon liked outgoing, spur-of-the moment women who could keep his interest for longer than a nanosecond.

So for him to fall so madly in love with Bonnie really made no sense to Damon.

She possessed qualities that he wanted in a mate. She was smart, grounded, practical, yet she was sensual, knew how to unwind and have a good time, and she had the uncanny ability of making him feel like the only man in the universe when they were together.

It would be impossible for him to let her go. But he had to. For his brother.

Before either of them was prepared for it, the detective parked his car in the front circle of the hospital. Bonnie climbed out, looked around and then followed the two police officers inside.

They rushed through the triage area without any impediments. Bonnie held on tightly to her purse probably ripping the leather into shreds. The muscles in her body were so taut she figured it would only be a matter of time before she splintered and flaked away.

Damon walked with his self-assured swagger but on the inside of his clothes he was sweating profusely.

The foursome rounded a corner that was lined with examination rooms.

"I told you," a deep tenor voice chuckled. "I'm perfectly fine."

Bonnie automatically stopped walking causing Damon to crash into her. Tears gushed from her eyes in an unstoppable torrent that she couldn't see straight. Damon gently took her by the shoulders and pushed her forward.

Not ten feet from her Bonnie could hear Stefan's voice. She couldn't see him because the two officers were barring the entrance to the door as they interrupted the doctor who was examining Stefan.

Words were exchanged, and they parted revealing her husband to her.

Bonnie's eyes bugged, her jaw was on the floor, she lost all feeling in her legs, and her ears began to ring.

Damon breathed deeply through his nose as he saw his brother for the first time in two years. He was equally happy he was alive and that he wasn't the last remaining Salvatore, but at the same time this was a bittersweet moment.

Without him realizing it, tears ran down his alabaster cheeks.

Stefan looked at the two people who hovered just outside of the doorway. Tentatively he rose from the examination table and offered what he hoped was a welcoming smile.

Throat dry, Bonnie's feet of their own volition carried her over to Stefan. When she was close her eyes ran over him noting he had a beard and his caramel hair came down to his shoulders. She had expected to see him clean shaven, with perfectly styled hair, the Stefan she married, so this mountain man standing before her kind of knocked her off her equilibrium.

She ignored all of that because it wasn't important. She jumped into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck, her legs around his waist, squeezing until she was sure he couldn't breathe.

Stefan buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, his mind being flooded with memories. This was his wife. The woman he fell in love with in Paris. The woman who became his family, who he wanted to start a family with. The woman who held his heart. The woman he couldn't remember until recently. And standing not two feet from them was his brother. Flashes of their childhood, adolescence, and finally adulthood attacked him. Stefan might not be able to recall all of their conversations and antics verbatim, but the one thing he would never have to question was his love for his brother and Damon's love for him. He never thought he'd be so happy to see Damon.

Bonnie pulled away, tears streaming down her face as she locked gazes with Stefan. "You came back to me."

Stefan ran his fingers through her hair, unabashedly sharing in his wife's tears. "You know I could never let you go."

Those words penetrated deep within Damon. He shifted his weight on his feet feeling uncomfortable.

"I missed you _so_ much," Bonnie sniffled.

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry."

Damon cleared his throat. He offered up a smile when the reunited couple shifted their gaze towards him. He pushed past the boulder that clogged his throat. "Kenny Rogers what have you done to my brother?"

Stefan shook his head, snickered, along with the attending physician and the detectives. Bonnie said nothing as she was lowered to the ground and moved to stand next to Stefan.

"Jerk," Stefan said and hugged his brother. "It's so good to see you, Damon." They gripped one another tightly.

"Same here. Now I can kick your ass," Damon pulled away. "Do you have any idea of the hell you put us through for the last two years, count 'em the last twenty-four months! You have a whole _hell _of a lot of explaining to do."

"Damon," Bonnie attempted to admonish him although she had been thinking the same thing.

"No, he's right. There is a lot to explain," Stefan came to his brother's defense.

That's when the doctor stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Dr. Ray Carmichael," he shook hands with Bonnie and Damon. "I can provide some answers to the medical side of what happened with Mr. Salvatore. Let's move this to my office."

The three of them followed the doctor to his office but not without Bonnie and Damon equally thanking the detectives for their assistance.

The doctor's office was small and with four people smashed inside it became compact.

"I'll let Stefan tell you what he remembers about his accident, and then I'll fill in from there," Dr. Carmichael said once he sat behind his desk.

Stefan shifted in the chair so he could look at Bonnie and Damon. He reached for her hand and entwined their fingers. Damon witnessed this and tried to keep a straight face.

"The morning I went missing, I wanted to get a jump start so I headed up the peak to take pictures. I dumped my pack that had all of my information so it would be easier for me to explore. I was about a mile out when I lost my footing and fell down a ravine. My head took most of the brunt."

Bonnie remembered Matt telling her all they had been able to find when they went out looking for Stefan was his pack.

"How weren't you killed?" Damon asked.

Stefan shrugged. "That I don't know. The next time I came to, I was on a reservation that's maybe twenty or thirty miles outside of the national park. Several of the citizens had been on their way inland when they found me and took me back to their home. I learned I had been in a coma for about a month, maybe longer.

"I couldn't remember anything. Not even my name. Their healers took great care of me. I had to relearn how to do the most basic stuff, how to write, stand, walk on my own. My speech hadn't been affected by my head injury but I couldn't remember anything. They would ask me questions about what I was doing on the mountain, who were my people, and I couldn't answer them. It was like…my life up until that moment had been wiped totally clean.

"Little by little things would start to come back to me. Mostly in my dreams. I'd see faces of people I was sure I knew. I just couldn't place a name with the face, or recall how I knew that person, if I really did know that person at all.

"Months passed and I just…lived there on the reservation."

"But why, when you were well, didn't they bring you back to the city?" Bonnie questioned. "And did anyone think to look for you there?"

Dr. Carmichael entered the conversation. "The Quileute reservation is off the beaten path. They are an intensely private people and rarely trust outsiders."

"So it was just assumed that if they had found Stefan they wouldn't have helped him?" Bonnie demanded to know how it was overlooked, that her husband had been hiding in plain sight on an Indian reservation. But in these types of situations, when a person went missing, they were always closer than suspected.

Stefan tightened his hold on Bonnie's hand, sensing and feeling her anger.

Stefan resumed the prior conversation. "Nonetheless, they took me in, saw me as one of their own, and because I never asked to leave, they didn't pressure me to go. They believed they found me for a reason; that I was there for a reason."

Well, this was just too much like _Dances with Wolves_ for Damon but he was deeply grateful to the Quileute people for nursing his brother back to health.

"So how did you get here? How did you all of a sudden remember who you were?" Bonnie went on to ask.

Stefan rifled in his back pocket of the pair of cargo pants that fit him snugly. Bonnie took the opportunity to look over her husband and noticed he was about twenty pounds heavier than when she saw him last, yet it wasn't twenty pounds of fat but muscle.

_Lean _muscle.

She definitely felt a tingle down under as she stared at the corded muscles in his forearm and bicep.

He presented a wallet-sized picture of Bonnie. "I had this on me at the time of my accident."

Bonnie gasped and took the dog-eared photo of herself. Whenever Stefan went out of town he said he would carry around her picture in his sock so that way she could travel with him although she wasn't there physically.

She flipped it over and read the two words inscribed. "My love." Bonnie flashed her eyes up at Stefan.

"I wasn't wearing my ring so I didn't know if you were my wife, girlfriend, or…a friend. But I would stare at your picture hoping to conjure up some memory. Months went by, then a year, and more months and then…one day…it was like someone flipped a switch. I suddenly knew who I was, who _you _were, and that there was a life I needed to get back to. So I spoke with the leader of the reservation and he sent me off with his blessing."

Again the doctor interjected. "Mrs. Salvatore," he didn't continue until Bonnie looked at him. "Your husband had a traumatic brain injury. The pressure in his brain was so great that he developed retrograde amnesia where he couldn't remember anything prior to the accident. He's very lucky that he wasn't killed after falling down the ravine, and more than likely he was found perhaps just minutes afterward, which in situations like that is very critical. The medicinal practices of the Quileutes are a mystery so I can't explain how they were able to get the swelling to go down because otherwise Stefan could have suffered from intracranial hematoma, or intraparenchymal hematoma where blood could have formed in the tissues of his brain."

That was a whole heck of a lot for Damon to absorb and he was in serious need of a dictionary.

Bonnie understood some of what Dr. Carmichael had shared with them. She had taken a course on how an individual's personality could alter due to trauma to the brain, and had heard those terms before.

And that brought up some very important questions.

Had any part of Stefan's personality altered as a result of his traumatic brain injury? Was this truly her husband she was about to take home?

"What are the lasting effects?" Bonnie wanted clarification so she could prepare herself.

Dr. Carmichael flipped through Stefan's chart. "Like I said your husband is very lucky to be alive and we've run numerous neurological tests on him," he smiled. "We couldn't find anything that would raise a red flag. In other words, he's perfectly healthy."

Damon wiggled his ear. They couldn't be that lucky that _nothing _was wrong with his brother.

"Are you sure about that?" Damon stood up against the wall, arms folded. "Wouldn't there be a possibility of mood swings, aggressive behavior, restless legs, the urge to gamble or be promiscuous, something?"

Stefan snorted. Bonnie merely shook her head.

The good doctor shrugged his shoulders. "You do bring up very valid points, Mr. Salvatore."

"Please, call me Damon."

"Looking at Stefan's CT, CAT, and MRI, all his brain activity is normal. His serotonin levels are right where they should be. He's a perfectly healthy thirty-year old man."

Bonnie turned to her husband. "So you don't have headaches, or blackouts?"

Stefan shook his head and smiled. "I've never felt better in my entire life. Call it the strict diet and rigorous physical activity the Quileute put me through on my road to recovery. But I'm fine, Bonnie. And I'm ready to go home."

"Then let's get you home," Damon announced.

And on that note, he and Bonnie rose, shook hands with the doctor who did caution them about something's before they left the hospital.

Naturally a few media people were loitering outside of the hospital having gotten wind of the story. Damon instantly fell into business mode and repeatedly told people to step aside, and no comment.

Thirty minutes later they all boarded the private plane set for Mystic Falls.

Now Bonnie was curled up with Stefan on the couch sharing a blanket. Damon tried to keep himself busy, keep his mind and eyes off the fact that his brother was back and that he was touching Bonnie with a freedom he had to forfeit.

Stefan cupped Bonnie's cheek, his bluish-green eyes traversed over her features marking everything into memory. Bonnie for her part ran her fingers through his long hair. He looked so much older, and there was a wisdom to his face that replaced the boyish charisma that she fell deep in love with.

He had grown up in her absence. And this bothered because she hadn't been around to witness it.

"Your picture," he said suddenly, "was my only anchor. I would stare at your face for hours at a time. But I couldn't recall the sound of your voice, or your laughter. But I'd dream about you, wonder about you. A piece me always felt like it was missing. And that piece had been you."

Stefan dropped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her forward. Bonnie only hesitated a bit because she was consciously aware of Damon—knew he was watching them.

Yet she closed her eyes and met Stefan halfway. Their lips connected and the sensation that followed was familiar and foreign all at the same time.

Damon clenched his teeth together and looked away. His hand balled into a fist and he commanded his butt to stay in his chair and not pull Bonnie away from Stefan. But then, he forced himself to return his gaze to them. He would have to get used to seeing this so he might as well start now.

Stefan's kiss was exploratory much in the same way he kissed her that first time in Paris. Bonnie opened her mouth to deepen the kiss which he took full advantage of, yet something picked at her. This felt…off. And his beard was scratching her.

Dread took up residency in her stomach. Was her true passion for her husband gone?

No, it was just buried due to lack of use. It would come back with time. She was sure of it.

Stefan pulled away. He didn't look disappointed or as if something was missing.

"I should have done that sooner," he confided.

Bonnie smiled. "We're going to have to do something about that beard, though."

At the mention of his face fur, Stefan ran his hand along his jaw. "I kind of like it. Doesn't it make me look older?"

"Yes, it does, but it scratched me."

He winked at her. "I'm not opposed to getting rid of the beard…the hair on the other hand."

"I like it," Bonnie ran her fingers through the soft strands. Stefan couldn't look more like Fabio in this moment. "But I prefer you with short hair."

"You haven't changed a thing about you," he said. "You're just the way I remembered you. Ridiculously beautiful."

She couldn't help it; she blushed and melted a bit. Her husband had always been something of a sweet talker.

"I'm so glad to have you back," she whispered quietly. It was hard trying to rebuild the intimacy that was so easily shared between them when she knew she had made similar proclamations to another Salvatore who sat not ten feet from her.

"I'm glad to be back," Stefan concurred and then looked over his shoulder at his brother. "You're being awfully quiet, Damon. I know I'm back from the dead is shocking and unexpected…"

"I'm just processing everything, Stefan. Just…just keep your focus on…your _wife_."

Bonnie inwardly stiffened. This was not going to be a fun ride back to Mystic Falls.

Chapter end.

**A/N: I had to borrow the Quileute name because well...I couldn't think of anything else, and didn't want to make something up. And I didn't want to do an over dramatic reunion but something that fit everyone's personality based on how they react to surprising news on the show. Thanks for reading guys and letting me know what you think. Love you. **


	4. Back to Basics

**A/N: And here we have the continuation of the reunion and Stefan's induction back into Mystic Falls. There is mostly Stefonnie this chapter.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

><p>This was surreal. He was here. He was real. Her fingers were actually touching him. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek as she laid her face on his chest. She could smell the mountain air on his skin. She could feel his body heat against hers.<p>

Bonnie ran her eyes over Stefan as he slept. They had gone off to the bedroom, stretched out together and snuggled under the blanket. An hour into the flight exhaustion caught up with Stefan and he was out. Bonnie, still being fueled with adrenaline had been unable to join him. But sleep held absolutely no interest for her. Bonnie traced his lips that were shrouded by his beard. She frowned a bit because she really didn't like facial hair on men. And for all the years she had known Stefan he never attempted to grow a mustache or a goatee. Foolishly she had thought him incapable of growing facial hair.

Her stomach growled and Bonnie tried her best to ignore it. She didn't want to leave the bedroom and more importantly she didn't want to have to deal with Damon. She felt him on the other side of the door, taunting her with his proximity. If she listened closely she could hear him pecking away on his laptop. What business could he be doing at one in the morning, central time?

When her stomach growled loud enough to cause Stefan to stir a bit, Bonnie sucked up her losses. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid out of bed. She hesitated and stared back at him and smiled when she saw him reach out for her.

"I'll be back," she said quietly and opened up the door.

Damon was right where they left him. His back was to her and from the slump of his shoulders she could tell he had been in sitting in that position for a while.

"Are you going to stay up all night, Damon?" she questioned and walked over to the mini-refrigerator. She pulled out a fully prepared salad and a bottle of water.

He swiveled the chair to stare at her. He was wearing his glasses. The ones without the frames; and the ones that made him look like a hot and distinguished professor.

Bonnie joined him at the table.

"I'll sleep once we get back to Mystic Falls," he answered and watched as Bonnie twisted the cap off the bottle and opened up her salad.

She began to peck over it.

"How's Stefan?"

Bonnie looked at Damon. "He's asleep."

He in return nodded his head. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Bonnie forked salad in her mouth. "I was hungry."

Typically Damon would have followed that comment up with a question filled with innuendo. 'Hungry for what?' Bonnie would have offered one of her rare but saucy smiles that could get all the blood in his body to coalesce in one specific area.

Silence followed and punctuated the air between them.

Yet there was something gnawing at Damon. He reached for her hand across the table, and was inwardly relieved when Bonnie didn't instantly pull her hand away.

Their eyes met. "We haven't talked about…us," he began tentatively. He watched as Bonnie's nostrils flared and to his dismay she did pull her hand away. "Logically I know it has to be over but…"

"Damon, please," Bonnie whispered fiercely. "Let's not do this _now. _We will talk, but not now."

"Bonnie?"

The woman in question froze at hearing her husband's voice. She rose from the table, taking her salad and water with her.

"I'm coming, Stefan."

Damon didn't watch her walk away. With her gone leaving him only with the scent of her perfume and the sound of her voice, Damon began to travel back in time to the first time he met Bonnie Renee Bennett.

* * *

><p><em>Damon was hunched over his desk, his eyes going in and out of focus as he stared at line after line in the PNR report that he always had to go over before submitting the final product to his boss and the board of directors. The last quarter of the year was always the more frustrating and difficult time of the year because people scrambled to get their invoices, and other financial documents in order. One thing he learned as being the Vice President of Finance was that people fudged their numbers…a lot.<em>

_Damon had his eye on one day becoming the Chief Financial Officer of Saltzman Enterprises, a fortune-500 company that specialized in software and munitions development for the Department of Defense._

_And because this job was stressing him out, and had a tighter hold on his balls than a lasso, it meant long hours spent at the office. Getting and seeing little daylight, and of course sacrificing having a social life for four straight weeks._

_His phone intercom went off. "What is it, Caroline? I thought I said I didn't want to be disturbed."_

_"I know, Mr. Salvatore but your brother Stefan is here."_

_Damon looked up from the report, a question mark forming on his head. He quickly looked at the calendar on his credenza. There wasn't a reminder written down telling him Stefan would be paying him a visit. Not that his younger brother needed to make an appointment to see him. Usually Stefan stayed as far away from his office afraid he might catch a corporate bug or something. If he was in town, Stefan usually called him up and they met afterwards for drinks._

_"Show him in," Damon instructed his assistant._

_A second later Caroline Forbes, his executive assistant for the last year showed his brother and…a young woman into his office._

_"It was nice seeing you again, Stefan," Caroline said._

_Stefan inclined his head towards her. "It was a pleasure as always, Caroline."_

_Damon watched as his assistant grinned and waved at the unidentified woman who was holding his brother's hand. The two of them giggled at one another._

_"Call me, Care so we can catch up," the young woman said._

_"All right." She flicked her eyes to her boss before closing the glass door of his office._

_Damon stood up from his chair and rounded the desk. He hugged his brother. "Stefan what are you doing here? And who did you bring with you?"_

_Stefan wrapped his arm around the woman in question. "Damon, I want you to meet the woman of my dreams, Bonnie Bennett. Bonnie this is the neurotic, self-absorbed brother I was telling you about."_

_Damon rolled his eyes and extended his hand towards Bonnie. She took the proffered limb and gave him a surprisingly strong handshake in return._

_"Nice to meet you, Damon," Bonnie said in a soft, melodious voice. "You have a beautiful office."_

_"Thank you," Damon sat down on the edge of his desk and folded his arms over his chest. Stefan wasn't known for bringing his girlfriends to his office. This was certainly a first. "So how long have you been dating my brother?"_

_"For about four months," she smiled and looked up at Stefan who returned her love-sick expression. Damon did his best to keep his face neutral. "We met in Paris and have been together ever since."_

_Right, Damon remembered that after one of Stefan's legendary temper tantrums he packed his bag, grabbed his passport, and booked himself an international flight. Typically Damon would be charged with fetching Stefan but this time he left his brother alone._

_"Yeah, Bonnie just graduated with her master's in clinical psychology."_

_Damon lifted his eyebrows. Psychologist, hmmm he wondered if she were analyzing him right now. "Congratulations. So are you going to go into private practice or keep going until you get your doctorate?"_

_"I'm going to do both," she answered. "Do you mind if I take a look around your office? You have a lot of interesting art pieces," Bonnie asked._

_"Sure, knock yourself out."_

_Bonnie went off leaving the two brothers to carry on a conversation._

_Had it been four months since the last time they saw each other? Stefan looked the same, but he appeared happier, happier than he recalled seeing his brother in years. More than likely it had everything to do with the young, African American woman who was currently snooping through his office. Damon could admit she was pretty and sexy in an understated way. But certainly not his type. He preferred statuesque women who could easily command a room. With Bonnie you had to wait until she stood in front of you to garner your attention only because she was so very tiny._

_"When did you get back from Paris?" Damon wondered._

_"A few days ago. I wanted to come see you when I first got back but your assistant said you were swamped so I figured I'd wait it out until you had a break."_

_"So, you and Bonnie? Is it serious?"_

_Stefan stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocked on his heels, and nodded his head. "I've never met anyone like her, Damon. She challenges me in my thinking, and she doesn't tell me that I'm wasting my time with photography. She supports it, and there's just this…chemistry between us I haven't felt with anyone else. And you know my past," the younger Salvatore lowered his voice. "You know I was out there."_

_"Yes, Stefan you were the man whore of the Upper East Side for a while."_

_The two brothers directed their gazes to Bonnie who was busy admiring a mural painting from a famous South American artist._

_"If you're not too busy do you want to have dinner with us?" Stefan asked hopefully._

_"I wouldn't bother asking him, Stefan. From the looks of things he won't be leaving this office for quite some time."_

_Damon stood up from the edge of his desk and turned to face her. "How do you figure that?"_

_Bonnie looked at him over her shoulder. "You have the characteristics of someone with a Type A personality. You have to be engrossed in a thousand things all at once because you are terrified of feeling boredom. Complacency is your arch nemesis, and you have no time to be idle. You live your life according to calendars and schedules, and even your social life is gone through with a fine tooth comb right down to your latest arm candy._

_"You don't make mistakes, and failure is never an option. You're a perfectionist and a go-getter as evidence by being this company's youngest vice president. You didn't get here by luck, but by hard work and long hours. Sacrificing spending time doing things you actually love that have nothing to do with promoting your career. You enjoy foreign food, and you have a good eye for art. But all of this…is only a mask."_

_Two sets of eyes blinked at her._

_"Yeah, she does that from time to time," Stefan scratched the back of his neck ruefully._

_"You got all of that just from looking at my art?" Damon questioned with an eyebrow raised in the air._

_Bonnie shook her head and retraced her steps until she stood in front of him. "No, Stefan told me something's, and from meeting you, when you saw your brother you exhibited first confusion and then happiness. Confusion because you couldn't remember if you had an appointment to see your own flesh and blood, and then happiness because this was a purely spur of the moment visit. Something you aren't exactly accustomed to."_

_And this was another first for Damon; he had been rendered completely speechless. "You're good," he said at last._

_"I would hope so because I graduated at the top of my class," she beamed. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. But I just love learning peoples' quirks and discovering what makes them human."_

_Yeah, well Damon hadn't exactly felt human since he began working for Saltzman Enterprises. If anything he felt like a well-groomed, well-trained monkey always looking out for the bottom line._

_"Hmm. And from what I was able to gather about you, Miss Bennett is that you know my assistant."_

_"I sure do. Caroline and I went to high school together. We were best friends but lost touch over the years. Small world."_

_"Small world, indeed." Damon concurred and moved to stand behind his desk again. He looked at the reports scattered across the surface and frowned. "You know what. I'm going to break my own rule. Let's go out."_

_"Really? Are you sure? We can always hook up some other time because you look like you have a lot to do, Damon."_

_Damon waved a hand in the air dismissing his brother's concern. "This will be here whether I finish it tonight or tomorrow. My brother is back from Paris with his girlfriend. What could be more important?"_

_He flicked his eyes at Bonnie who tried to contain her smug smile and couldn't. She would also be one of the first of Stefan's girlfriends who didn't throw him a flirty look when Stefan wasn't looking._

_They had gone to one of Damon's favorite restaurants where he was familiar with the wait staff and the night manager who seated them at one of best tables in the house. They wasted hours talking, laughing, and drinking wine. Yet as the night wore on and Damon sat across from his brother and his new love interest it was the first time in a long time that Damon began to feel lonely._

_He sat and observed as Stefan and Bonnie exchanged longing gazes causing so much heat and friction it was a miracle the paint wasn't dripping off the walls. The sexual chemistry that buzzed between his younger brother and Bonnie was so palpable that Damon excused himself several times from the table._

_It had been too long since he felt that way. About anybody. Sure he dated several women who could get him hard in the snap of the fingers, but erections were easy to come by with the right stimulation. What he witnessed between Bonnie and Stefan was on another level, plateau altogether. They weren't merely hungry for one another's bodies, but each other's souls._

_And to tell the truth, and the truth should be told, that scared him._

Damon, in present time, viciously rubbed his tired, blood-shot eyes. He glared at the door which locked away his prodigal son of a brother and the woman who enraptured his senses. Damon had always prided himself on his strength but he wasn't so sure he was strong enough to fight this.

* * *

><p>Hours later they had arrived at Bonnie and Stefan's townhome. Stefan looked around at the tall structure, at his old neighborhood feeling more like a visitor rather than a native. He felt displaced like an extraterrestrial organism that had been found in the deep sea, and brought into a science lab for experimentation.<p>

It became difficult to swallow and focus on one thing yet he held on tightly to Bonnie's hand as she led the way from the town car to the front door.

Bonnie felt him trembling and turned to look at him. "Are you okay? You don't have any reason to be afraid. You're home, Stefan."

He did his best to offer up a smile but probably came off as more of a snarl. Bonnie smiled her famous "Will you relax before I cap you with a tranquilizer" smile before she turned to insert the key in the lock. Stefan literally began to feel trapped with his wife in front of him and his brother behind him. He had noticed that throughout most of the flight Damon had chosen to remain silent. Sure his unexplainable reappearance back into their lives was shocking, but he figured that would have worn off by now, and Damon would have talked several holes in his head about personal responsibility while also threatening to end his life if he pulled something like that again.

Instead he got nothing. Just silence and no sarcasm.

Once the door was open, and Bonnie disabled the alarm, she walked through the foyer and began clicking on lights.

Nothing was the way Stefan remembered. The only thing that hadn't changed was the smell. Bonnie was big on walking into an olfactory appealing house and bought candles and air fresheners religiously. He hinted cinnamon and jasmine in the air as well as lavender and vanilla.

Bonnie watched him carefully as Stefan walked through the living room, peeked inside the kitchen before he headed upstairs to the bedrooms. She followed after him telling him of some of the changes she made, the biggest change of course being their bedroom.

Their original bed frame had been a California King Sleigh bed, but since it was only her, Bonnie downsized to a queen sized mattress with a dark cherrywood frame.

The one thing Bonnie did before getting on the plane was to unearth all their wedding photos, personal albums, and framed photos and strategically placed them around their bedroom and in certain rooms in the house.

Stefan spotted one of himself in a silver frame. He picked it up and looked at the man he used to be. He and Bonnie had been on vacation in Rio de Janeiro. Aviator glasses covered his eyes but he had been in the midst of blowing Bonnie a kiss so she caught him in full pucker mode. Bonnie said it was her favorite picture of him.

Damon loomed in the doorway not trusting himself to take one step farther in the room. He stared at his feet mostly feeling the back of his neck grow warm as he thought of the hours and days he spent lounging around or doing sinfully wicked things to Bonnie in this very room.

"I can change everything back," Bonnie stammered at the forlorn look that crossed Stefan's face. "I know it's a lot to take in and get adjusted to…"

He sat the photo back down on the bedside table and engulfed her in his arms. He kissed the crown of her head. "No, everything is perfect just the way it is. It would have been too much to think everything would have remained the same after two years."

Bonnie squeezed Stefan in return.

"I'm going to head out and give you two some privacy," Damon finally said forcing himself to look at them. Pain burned him like a laser splicing him in half like a molecule.

"No," Stefan pulled away from Bonnie. "It's late. You can stay here with us." He looked at Bonnie over his shoulder. "There're still two bedrooms on this floor right?"

She nodded.

"Just take one of the guestrooms. It's not going to be a big inconvenience, and besides we have a lot we gotta get caught up on."

Bonnie wanted to argue the point yet diplomatically kept her mouth shut.

Damon looked Stefan right dead in the eye. "Okay. I'll stay. I know my way around so," he reached for the door handle and began to shut the door, "Good night or should I say morning."

Alone again Stefan turned around and looked at his wife. He reached for the hem of his shirt and wrenched it up. Rippling, corded muscles, and tanned skin greeted Bonnie's pea green orbs, and she swallowed thickly. His cargo pants rode low on his hips and her eyes took in the happy trail of chestnut hair beginning from his navel that disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. He was impeccably cut like a wide receiver.

"I'm going to hop in the shower. It's this way right?" Stefan pointed at a door on the opposite side of the room.

It took Bonnie a moment to find her tongue. She nodded.

Stefan headed towards it, snapped on the light, yet paused under the threshold. He turned to face her and noticed Bonnie had her eyes planted on his ass.

He smiled. "You want to join me?"

Wordlessly she approached her husband. "If I do then I want to soak in the tub."

Stefan wrapped one meaty arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "All right," he said softly, and kissed her neck. Heat flared through Bonnie and she cleared her throat.

Her hormones and body wanted to fly all over the place. Did she want Damon or Stefan? Stefan or Damon? Them both? Gah!

It wasn't awkward—that much—undressing in front of her husband. She and Stefan instantly fell back into the groove it had taken them years to carve. He stripped down to his birthday suit as Bonnie, still fully clothed except she was missing her sweater stood beside him as she showed him where she kept his toiletry items.

"The towels are pretty much where we've always kept them stored. There's extra soap in there as well."

"Everything's coming back to me," he looked around their colossal bathroom and felt like he was being swallowed up. "It still feels like a dream, though."

One of Bonnie's stipulations for when they went house hunting was that she needed a large bathroom. The bigger the better. In fact she preferred it to be larger than her bedroom. This bathroom had met all of her requirements offering her a steam shower, garden tub, his and her sinks inlaid with marble, heated floors, and a sitting area equipped with a flat screen television that was mounted on the wall and a mini-refrigerator.

Suddenly Stefan began to miss the cozy, intimate warmth of his benefactor's house. It had been small and rustic, but sturdy. This place felt like a palace considering the single story flat he spent the last two years of his life, and for a second Stefan didn't want to touch anything in fear of breaking it.

What he saw before him screamed opulence and wealth. The total opposite of what he had come to love and appreciate.

Stefan stared at his reflection, running his hand across his beard. His eyes surreptitiously went over to Bonnie as she filled the garden tub with a combination of bath salts.

"Bonnie?"

She turned around to face him.

"I don't think I've said this to you in a while…" Stefan turned away from the sink and approached his wife. He had gotten a mixture of signals from her and he wasn't really sure what to think. Although she had been nothing but attentive towards him, he still got the sense that her mind was preoccupied.

Stefan figured one reason for this preoccupation might stem from the fact Bonnie wasn't explicitly sure how he felt about her. A lot can happen in two years. People changed and grew apart. And though he might have lost his memory of her, he had still walked around with a void inside that couldn't be placated.

Bonnie nervously rubbed her itchy palms over her leggings. Stefan reached for her hands, and stared deep into her eyes.

"I love you."

Her skin began to tingle and tears burst from her ducts. She had waited years to hear him say that but it sounded…foreign. Not that she didn't think he was being genuine, but…he was saying "I love you" to the old Bonnie, not the Bonnie she was now. And if he ever learned the truth about what she and Damon had been doing for the last six months…that love would turn into hate.

For his part, Stefan waited patiently for his wife to say it back. She didn't and that made his stomach feel like it was carrying stones.

Bonnie licked her lips. She wanted to say the words back but…they kept getting trapped in her throat.

Nevertheless, Stefan finished undressing her and together they climbed into the tub, his chest cushioning her back. They were quiet for a while.

"You know I never stopped loving you, Stefan," Bonnie said. That much was the truth. Her love for him never went away. It might have changed shape, but it was there just the same. "There were days I couldn't move or get out of bed. I was so…heartbroken because I had no idea if you were alive or dead. Everyday was hard. Waking up and seeing your side of the bed empty. I could only be with you in my dreams. To cope, I played the DVD of our wedding so many times I warped the stupid thing."

Stefan chuckled lowly at that.

"No one told me to move on," Bonnie continued. "Yet I'd see it in their eyes. I'd hear it in their voices. I had convinced myself that as long as we never found your body, there was still hope that you were alive. But after a while…I wasn't sure what to think. Letting you go…" a tear slid down her cheek and she shuddered. "I couldn't do it, Stefan."

"That was the last thing I ever wanted to put you through, Bonnie," Stefan confessed his voice gravelly. "I felt like I was cursed. Everyone around me had memories and I had nothing save your picture, but I couldn't remember who you were or what you meant to me. I had to fight everyday just to remember something from the day before. I felt like a child stumbling around, yet I couldn't recall a single significant detail of my life."

"And then everything just clicked into place?" Bonnie angled her neck to stare up at Stefan.

He nodded. "It was…a rush of information. Everything just started to come back at once. When I looked at your picture I just started sprouting off facts left from right and knew deep down that everything I said was the truth, had happened. I had a wife, and we were in love, and our life was great."

Bonnie sighed and smiled just a little bit. "So what did you do everyday?"

Stefan tightened his arms around her. "The first few months were hard. I had muscle atrophy after I awoke from the coma, and I got around for a while in a wheelchair and crutches. But Elan, one of the men who found me and welcomed me into his home, didn't want me sitting around on my ass getting fat so he forced me to push my body past its limits. I guess you could say he was my physical therapist," Stefan chuckled. Bonnie joined in.

"And then little by little, I got stronger and I could do more things. Life began to get easier. So when I could I would go out hiking. Fishing. Mostly I kept busy. Each day I was up at dawn. I would help Tehya, Elan's wife, with preparing breakfast for her family. She and her husband are teachers so I did what I could to make life a little less stressful for them.

"I was basically Tehya's shadow. I'd follow her to school, I worked with the kids. We taught each other. When I learned how to write again, I discovered I knew how to draw. So to pass the time, I'd draw, and then everyone wanted me to sketch their portrait. I was able to turn it into a slightly profitable side business. I was just integrated into everything. Birthdays, weddings, funerals, didn't matter, I was there for it all."

"It sounds like you were around good people who took good care of you."

"They took the best care of me. It was Tehya's grandmother who healed me."

"Do you know what she did? A head injury of that magnitude to cause memory-loss…not a lot of people recover from something like that and end up healthier."

"I don't know what she did, Bonnie. But I do know this…they could have left me there to rot and feed the vultures but they took pity on me and introduced me into their world. I could never thank them enough for that."

And Bonnie couldn't thank them enough either. When she could, and when the time was right, Bonnie wanted to fly back out to Montana to personally thank the family that took in, nursed, and watched over her husband. It was the least she could do to show her gratitude.

Nevertheless, Bonnie grew curious about something. "So after you got your memory back, did you instantly want to leave?"

Stefan pondered his response before answering. "I'll admit I was hesitant because I wasn't a hundred percent sure everything I remembered was real. After my memory came back I waited a week before I said anything to Tehya or Elan but they already knew. They were the ones to tell me to get over my fear and that it was time for me to go back to my world," he stopped talking abruptly as emotion began to clog his throat.

Elan and Tehya Trueblood was his surrogate family. It had been one of the hardest things to simply leave them behind and pick up his original life. He didn't feel like the Stefan Salvatore he remembered himself to be, but Tehya was the one to push him and say he needed to be reunited with his wife.

Had his wife changed during their two years of separation? Would she want him to come home after thinking he had been dead all this time? Could he just assimilate back into a world that didn't hold the same meaning it once did? Stefan wasn't sure of any of that, and as much as he wanted to see Bonnie and Damon, there was a larger part of him that simply wanted to keep that door closed.

"You miss them?" Bonnie asked. Stefan nodded his head.

"But I am happy to be home," he took her gently by the chin, inclined her head until their lips brushed against one another.

Her heart quickened in her chest because this was the way Stefan always kissed her, with great care and reverence just before passion bombarded the scene. He snaked his tongue through the tiny opening she created and Bonnie gasped at the texture of it brushing and twining around hers. Stefan took total possession of her mouth, gulping every little moan and sigh of happiness that emitted from her orifice.

Bonnie was the first to pull away, a dreamy expression on her face. "I'm so glad that never changed." She shifted until she faced Stefan.

She really didn't like his beard, but she didn't mind the shoulder-length hair so much. She ran her fingers through the auburn strands before she decided to shampoo his hair.

Stefan held her around the waist, closed his eyes and got lost in the sensation of his wife's pampering.

They didn't leave the tub until the water became frigid.

Wrapped up in their matching robes they went down to the kitchen to raid the pantry and the refrigerator and locked themselves in their bedroom. They almost felt like teenagers gorging themselves on junk food and crap reality shows, staying up way past their bedtimes until exhaustion caught up with them. And they were out like old people after watching Jeopardy.

* * *

><p>Bonnie wasn't sure of what the time was when she popped awake. The curtains were drawn over the windows, but she could see sunlight coming through the slits. Sitting up in bed her eyes went to her left and Stefan wasn't lying beside her.<p>

Panic swept through her heart and catapulted her out of bed. Bonnie was only vaguely aware of the fact she had fallen asleep in her robe and that it was hanging loosely around her shoulders.

"Stefan!" she bellowed and then listened as she heard the electric buzz off a razor sounding from the one of the guestrooms.

Re-tightening her robe Bonnie entered the room and noticed Damon had his crap thrown all over the place. She ignored it and approached the bathroom.

When she stepped into the room, Damon's back was to her and when he moved out of the way, clippers in hand, her jaw dropped and smacked against the floor.

Sensing that Bonnie was standing behind him, Damon turned around and offered Bonnie a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You're just in time," he said in reference to the makeover he just performed.

Briefly she made eye contact with him before her gaze dropped back to the man sitting down who now rose from his seat and stepped closer to the mirror to admire his brother's handiwork.

Bonnie took a single step closer just as her husband turned to face her, his face completely devoid of that irritating beard. There was her clean-shaven husband, her baby-faced prince.

A huge smile eclipsed her face, and she felt her heart bursting. "There he is. There's my Stefan."

Chapter end.

**A/N: I don't want to say this is the calm before the storm. Seems a little premature for that but Bonnie has definitely reconnected with her husband but she and Damon will have to talk about their relationship. Should be pretty interesting. I know not a lot of action happened, but there's just so much drama ahead I gotta pace it carefully. Thanks for reading guys. Love you!**


	5. I Have to Possess You

**A/N: Hello….is anybody out there lol. I know it's been an extreme minute since I've updated, but I read over a chapter or so and well caught a spark. Here's where the spark led to. Enjoy! Oh, and if there's typos like I do with all my stories, I go back and correct them, so my apologies in advance.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

><p><strong>Two weeks later…<strong>

Damon dressed for work mechanically and methodically. He kept his incandescent blue eyes locked on his reflection otherwise they would have strayed over to the caramel blonde currently drooling on his Neiman Marcus sheets.

Last night he attended an after work social at the 40/40 Club. There he tried his best to immerse himself in the world and culture that he had been apart of until everything was derailed two years ago. The late-night dinners, the casual flings and hook ups with foreign women, smoking cigars, and closing deals in ritzy hotels and clubs fell by the wayside as he, for lack of a better phrase, became a stand-in husband.

He gritted his teeth and pushed past that raw feeling that clawed at his belly and sat fire to his heart. His duty to watch over Stefan's most prized possession was now over, and he could officially move on with his life. Therefore, after tying his tie, Damon turned around to face Lola? No Lisa? What did it really matter what her name was because today would be his absolute last time seeing her.

He studied the seductive slope of her back before it dipped into a pear shaped bottom. She was tall and buxom; the kind of woman who graced magazine covers like Vogue, Cosmopolitan, and Sports Illustrated the swimsuit edition. She was lean and statuesque with limbs that traveled for miles, days. Damon was pretty sure she had an accent of which the origins had been impossible to decipher over the noise of the crowd. But he only needed to catch key phrases as they sat shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Her hands had been all over him. Innocent touches—he was sure on her part so he wouldn't think she was being too forward. Yet the message had been clear: I want to see you naked as soon as it can be arranged.

In reality Damon hadn't wanted to bring her home. He had a strict rule about that. No strangers in his house. People remembered where he lived and the last thing he wanted was to have some woman camping outside of his high rise.

Girls became addicted to him and it wasn't him trying to boast or be cocky, just a statement of fact. In college, he had perfected the art of seduction, and turned it into a semi-profession in graduate school. If he wanted, Damon could have had a different girl from a different race every day of the week. His off-campus apartment should have been outfitted with a revolving door, but as whorish as his behavior might have been, Damon was highly selective.

Only the cream of the crop, the best of the best would do. Most of the time the girl selected lived up to the hype but when it didn't happen, Damon had to finish himself off in the bathroom. Those girls never got a call back.

So Lelia—yes! That was her name. She had been a hellion in the sack and a little violent, which Damon didn't mind too much because at least he wouldn't get her confused with someone else. She had pulled his hair, raked her fingernails over his back as if she were trying to mark him. It wouldn't be the first time someone went to that length to lay a claim to him.

Damon was pretty sure she put a hex on him by the gibberish that spilled from her lips as she rode him. The man was thankful that Saltzman Enterprises had a strict dress code requiring men to wear button down shirts, that way he could hide the hickeys that were blooming all over his chest.

But Lelia was a different flavor, on the complete and total opposite end of the spectrum from…

He wouldn't even think her name. To think her name would bring back memories of two weeks ago where he was buried in a place he aptly called Home. But his thoughts wondered down that path of their own volition making him a reluctant voyeur.

Last night he tried so hard to keep the vision of Bonnie from ruining his night. He narrowly escaped with his reputation intact, and didn't thoroughly embarrass himself by going soft because the woman he saw behind his closed lids didn't match the woman writhing under him. Everything about Lelia was there to confuse him. From the sound of her voice, to her hair, to even her smell, there was nothing about her which reminded him of Bonnie. Therefore, she had been the perfect distraction that he needed.

Still, even as he stripped Lelia and she returned the favor, Damon couldn't escape feeling as if he were being unfaithful. He snorted derisively. He wasn't the one who was married. Nevertheless, Damon felt as if he were cheating on Bonnie, on what they shared, on what made them special and unique by bringing a third party into this.

Consequently, it literally had him seeing red as he imagined Stefan burying himself in Bonnie's tight sheath. Partaking of her warmth, and listening to her breathy sighs that fanned against the ear. It didn't seem fair. By rights Bonnie should be _his. _Simply because Damon had been there for her, rehabilitating her and being whatever was needed to help her make it through to cope with the loss of her husband, his brother.

Nope, that wouldn't be the case.

Bonnie had easily fallen back into her role as the dutiful wife. Damon suppressed his natural male instinct to stake his territory. But he was there for his brother reintroducing him to everything that changed and stayed the same in Mystic Falls.

Damon remembered, as he headed over to his art deco chair to slip his shoes on, after shaving Stefan, and after much convincing on his part to get Bonnie to agree to a quick brother outing, Damon drove Stefan around his neighborhood to get him acclimated.

They had stopped at a sports bar they used to hit up after working out in the gym. Luckily no one recognized Stefan and they were able to drink a brew way before happy hour as they sat and caught up.

Stefan had appeared to be distracted which was expected, but he asked a lot of questions, a little known fact Damon had forgotten about his brother. Stefan had always been of the inquisitive sort wanting to know everything Damon was doing, right down to the last mundane detail. It had pissed him off when they were growing up, but in this case Damon could overlook that.

However, things got a tad bit uncomfortable when Stefan started asking question after question about Bonnie.

Was she still friends with so and so? Did she still work in the same office building? Had she changed from the girl he fell in with in Paris? Did she still like to mix cranberry juice and sprite together? Did she still sleep with the light on during a thunderstorm?

Damon answered the best he could, not going too deep with answers because he didn't want to give Stefan the impression he knew Bonnie _that _well. But he did know her. Like the back of his hand. Like finding his way home no matter where he was on the planet. He couldn't exactly tell Stefan that without starting another round of questions.

But Damon had had some of his own.

"So you lived on a reservation for two years. Did you…dally with any of the natives?" the question had been probing on purpose. Damon had found it a little hard to believe that his brother would have remained a monk all that time. And perhaps he asked the question to assuage some of his own guilt about not being able to keep his penis away from a certain woman.

The question didn't draw Stefan up short. The same careful and inquisitive expression had remained on his face, but Damon did notice that his eyes tightened a bit. Not exactly a dead giveaway to anything, but Damon wasn't Stefan's brother for nothing. When you were close to someone you spent a great deal of time learning and discovering their quirks, their mannerisms, their facial expressions.

Stefan shook his head and looked down at the untouched beer in his hand. Alcohol hadn't been a part of his life for two years, and he only indulged in one now so Damon wouldn't feel like an alcoholic.

"No," Stefan answered. "All the women there knew I had a woman. They saw the picture of Bonnie that I carried with me. I couldn't remember my connection to Bonnie, but they figured she was someone dear to me, and well…I wasn't exactly the most eligible bachelor," he ended sheepishly.

Damon wanted to believe that. But he was a digger of information for profit. Got paid to get in people's financial business and yes that nosiness extended to all areas of his life. And he also had a sixth sense about potential, illicit affairs.

Stefan _might _have behaved himself but didn't make him exempt from being _tempted _to do something. And if he was tempted that meant there was someone he had to leave behind that it might not have been so easy for him to walk away from.

"Oh, well," Damon poked out his lips. "Hence I guess it's safe to assume that your balls are the color of an eggplant?"

Stefan grimaced. Honestly sex hadn't been on his mind either. It was kind of hard to miss something you couldn't exactly remember you were getting on a daily basis.

"Can we not talk about my balls, please?" Stefan chortled. "What about you? I still don't see a ring on your finger."

Damon shrugged. "I have no desire to change my relationship status on Facebook."

"One of us is going to have to become an uncle at some point, Damon."

"I understand all that. But I think we both know that the last thing the world needs is a Damon Jr. Besides you and I both know you have far more patience than I do when it comes to rugrats."

Stefan made a non-committal motion with his shoulder. Neither one of them had been particularly good with kids. All of their friends had been of the single and ready to mingle mentality. Kids meant a house in the suburbs and a minivan, and neither Salvatore was quite ready for that.

"Well, I guess I should warn you," Damon began after a brief pause, "your old friend Matt Donovan got hitched and now has twins with a third on the way."

Stefan's eyes stretched to the max as his eyebrows nearly lifted all the way off his forehead. Honestly until Damon mentioned his name, Stefan had forgotten all about Matt. He and Stefan had been friends since high school, solidifying a bond they promised only death would break. How ironic that would turn out to be in their formative years. But Stefan was in essence back from the dead, and apparently missed more than just creating moments with his wife. He missed out on watching his friends grow up and tackle on the responsibility of parenthood.

"Damn," Stefan whistled under his breath. "Have you seen them recently?"

"About three or four months ago. He married some English chick named Rebekah. I call them The Blondes whenever I see them," he snickered at his own joke.

Stefan ran a hand through his hair looking a bit overwhelmed and bewildered by the news. "Who else do I know has gotten married or had kids?"

Damon thought for a moment. He only knew this information because he spent a great deal of time with Bonnie, and people had come over to the townhouse nearly everyday for months after Stefan disappeared.

"Elijah Mikaelson is recently divorced, paying alimony and hating every moment of it."

Stefan grimaced but otherwise kept listening. He and Elijah had never been friends or even associates, and Stefan didn't appreciate the way he salivated all over Bonnie whenever they were forced to socialize with the millionaire.

Elijah was a fellow colleague of Bonnie's, and also a private owner of her practice. He often held a seminar for psychologists at his home in the Hamptons. Stefan remembered being forced to pack up their Range Rover for the nearly twelve hour drive every summer. He was hoping that Bonnie's obligation to Elijah was now old news.

"Tyler Lockwood is serving overseas in Japan, and he just got engaged to his long time girlfriend. I can't remember her name."

The name escaped Stefan too but he was sure it might have been Vicky or Vivian.

"And Jonas Martin finally married his girl…Lucy I believe is her name. They have a one year old son named Luka."

Stefan sat back against the booth absorbing all this. "Well, it looks like I'll have to hit up Babies R Us at some point."

"I'm just glad I'm not in your shoes," Damon said without an ounce of sympathy.

"Hey," Stefan murmured lowly. "Did any of them or someone else…try to get with Bonnie?"

Damon felt his heart torpedo in his chest. He could answer this question honestly, but he just hoped that Stefan wouldn't direct the question at him.

"No of course not," Damon replied. "Well, I take that back. Elijah did try but I think you already figured that much."

Stefan nodded.

"But everyone was worried about Bonnie and her emotional well-being. Nobody tried to seduce her." _Aside from myself but you don't need to know that._

Stefan looked immensely relieved by the news. He was no dummy. He knew he married a stunningly beautiful woman. The kind of woman that made you stand up and take notice, yet also the kind of woman that made you want to take care of her. Bonnie was fiercely independent, but there had been a vulnerability to her that made her cling to her extended relationships because she failed to obtain the acceptance and love from her own family. Anyone could have capitalized on that to their advantage.

He looked at his brother then, glad Damon had been around to offer up some protection for Bonnie. From what Stefan could remember, Damon and Bonnie had been pleasant and cordial with one another, if not a little distant. But he was sure that they would have come together to help each other out because that's what family did.

"I'm happy to hear I won't have to load my shotgun anytime soon," Stefan chuckled. Damon's eyes widened. "We should get out of here and head back. I miss my wife, man."

That would have been the appropriate time for Damon to make Stefan feel bad about himself by calling him whipped, but he had firsthand knowledge of what spending too much time away from Bonnie could do. It caused symptoms associated with ADHD. Restlessness, an inability to concentrate or finish tasks so forth and so on.

Damon had paid the tab and they quickly left and went back to Stefan's townhouse where Bonnie had been waiting impatiently for their return.

Back to the present, Damon sat for a moment now that his shoes were on. He remained in his brother's home for an additional night only at Stefan's insistence, and moved himself back to the apartment he rented out whenever he was in town.

Tonight was Stefan's welcome home party, an event Damon could say he wasn't looking forward to at all. Stefan's reappearance of course drew media attention turning him into Mystic Falls' lone celebrity. Stefan agreed to do one press conference and then after that he just wanted to be left alone and get back into the swing of things. Most importantly reconnect with his wife and hometown.

Damon of course had his part to play. He could say he had been doing an admirable job of suffering in silence and dying on the inside just a tiny bit each day. It had been only a week since he last laid eyes on Bonnie, and it was a week he took to screw his head on straight.

Nevertheless, it was time to wake Lelia up. He had to get to work, and she needed to go back wherever it was she came from.

* * *

><p>His hair was wrong. It wouldn't twist the way he wanted it to. Stefan had been fighting with his hair for the last hour and no matter how many times he tweaked it and applied product to it, it just wouldn't stand up the way it used to.<p>

"This is hopeless."

"What is?" Bonnie asked as she sauntered in the bathroom dressed in a silk kimono robe. Stefan watched her through the reflection in the mirror as she headed over to the garden tub and began to fill it with water.

"My hair," he finally answered and gulped nervously. Bonnie was bent over offering him an appealing view of her voluptuous backside. Stefan could now remember he didn't become an ass man until he met Bonnie. Her ass filled up his hands and he had pretty big hands, and still there was so much more left to grab.

Bonnie giggled softly and turned around to face her husband only to see his eyes had been planted south of her border. She grinned knowingly. "Your hair is fine, Stefan. You're just used to it being longer, that's all."

Stefan knew she was right. He decided to cut it back in its original style two days ago and since then he had been playing with it. He couldn't escape the feeling someone was going to call him Justin Beiber.

Bonnie approached him and wrapped her arms around his cut torso. She kissed his shoulder.

Since his return they hadn't shared more than heated kissed and heavy petting. But neither one, it seemed, had the courage to take things all the way. Stefan still fought against feeling like a stranger in his own home and with his own wife, and Bonnie, she couldn't stop feeling guilty and dirty.

She had a legal right and duty to be with her husband in every sense of the word, but…and she hated buts for a reason, Bonnie couldn't get over the notion she was cheating on Damon.

She was being irrational but real. For the last six months, Damon had been the only lover she knew. And gads if she didn't miss him. And not just for the sex part either.

Bonnie immediately pushed thoughts of him out of her head. She had promised Damon they would talk, to bring closure to what they had been doing, but she still hadn't worked up the courage to follow though. If there was one weakness she had it was avoidance. She avoided and eluded things like the plague. Had done so her entire life. In addition to that, she didn't exactly trust herself around Damon.

Stefan placed his hands over Bonnie's. He desired her, wanted her, lusted after her body, but he just couldn't…he didn't know how to approach her. Bonnie had been giving him mixed signals. Whenever they would start kissing and she'd be really into it, once he made a move to undress her, she'd pull back and mumble something incoherent before moving to do something else.

He figured it had been two years for her and she might, in someway, feel like a virgin. If that were the case, he could take things slow. Yet sleeping next to her, feeling her soft skin brush up against his, having her so close and yet so far away was testing his strength and resistance.

At the end of the day he was a man. A man who wanted his wife. There was nothing shameful about that.

"Are you sure you're just not nervous about tonight?" she asked.

It was the night of Stefan's welcome home party. Bonnie wanted to keep the gathering small, but once word got out Stefan was back, almost everyone in town wanted to see him. So they would be heading over to Stefan's old family home. The Salvatore boardinghouse offered much more space than their cozy townhome.

"I am. I haven't seen everyone and I might not remember everybody."

Bonnie nodded her head. "Well I'll be there right by your side all night, and any time you start to feel overwhelmed let me know and we can sneak off and…" she wiggled her eyebrows.

Stefan turned around and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Bonnie craned her neck at the same time Stefan lowered his head and their lips met.

Bonnie absolutely loved kissing Stefan. She could do this for the rest of her life and not get bored. She had away of dissolving into him, of allowing him to carry her full weight while she got lost in the juicy sensations his lips created against her mouth.

Yet that's all she was comfortable with doing with Stefan and it made her feel like a world-class bitch. This was her husband! They should have boned at least a dozen times already! But the thought of Stefan touching her where Damon had, made her feel revolting and undeserving of Stefan's love. This whole situation was going to drive her crazy. Bonnie already had her prescription for anti-psychotic meds lined up.

Stefan's hands traveled down the length of her back before they took possession of her ass. He groaned into her mouth, deepening the kiss by slithering his tongue in her mouth. He was hard in an instant and slowly began to grind against Bonnie.

Her heart was beating so fast that Bonnie was amazed she hadn't lost consciousness. She could do this. She could give herself to her husband.

His fingers reached for the knot in her robe and quickly loosened it. Bonnie tried to keep her mind focused on the way Stefan was devouring her mouth and nothing else.

Now his warm hands had worked inside the material and were touching her naked body, just around her middle, before claiming her ass again. Okay good, she was beginning to feel a little wet, was kissing him a little more demandingly. Again, she could do this.

His fingers trailed a delicious path from her lower abdomen, cupped her mound, and then a single digit began to stroke her clit.

Bonnie moaned, deeply.

Stefan's hands disappeared from her body to reach for the zipper of his jeans, and the sound it made scared Bonnie that she actually screamed and accidentally bit down on his lip.

"Jesus," Stefan ripped his mouth from hers and held his bleeding lip. His eyes were incredulous as Bonnie immediately looked apologetic.

"Stefan, I'm sorry!"

He turned back to the mirror to inspect the damage. It wasn't as bad as it felt. "Bonnie, what the hell?" he asked, his voice coming out a bit muffled since he was still holding his lip.

"Let me see," she pranced around until she stood before him again. Stefan removed his fingers and allowed her to inspect the damage she could have caused with her razor sharp teeth. Bonnie reached for a tissue out of the dispenser and applied it to his lip. "I'm sorry."

Stefan didn't say anything. He merely took control over holding the tissue to his wound as he retreated into their bedroom.

Bonnie shut off the water in the tub and went after him. The balled up tissue was on the end table and her husband was buried inside their closet.

She leaned against the door jam and watched as Stefan searched through one designer button down to the next, seeing nothing he liked. Her robe was still open offering him a lovely view of her flat stomach, toned thighs, that notorious triangular shaped apex that used to drip for him, and the inner side of her breasts.

Stefan quit his searching to stare at Bonnie. She had her hair pulled into a ponytail that sat high on her head and her makeup was already done for the evening. Her eyes were smoky, her lashes were thick giving her instant come hither eyes, perfectly arched eyebrows and a nude mouth finished her look.

His feet cleared the space that separated them. He picked her up without question, making her straddle his waist as he carried her over to the bed where he dumped her none-too-gently.

Bonnie didn't know what was happening. Well, she knew what was happening but her fear from earlier had seemingly disappeared and now all she wanted was to drown in Stefan.

He didn't reach for his pants, but he did spread her legs and then, his head got missing between her thighs, and so did his tongue.

Bonnie's hands did a thorough job of ruining the last hour he spent trying to style his hair.

* * *

><p>A town car escorted them to the boardinghouse. The whole way there they volleyed between making out, giggling, holding hands, and whispering raunchy things to one another. It felt like old times to Bonnie which made her forget she would he facing Damon in a matter of minutes.<p>

Already several cars were parked in the circular driveway. Stefan clutched Bonnie's hand as they strolled up to the front door, the both of them dressed to the nines in Michael Kors.

Stefan and Bonnie strolled through the door and were slapped with loud greetings and cries of jubilation. Instant tears welled up in both of their eyes as they went down a receiving line of hugs, kisses, and well wishes. She couldn't stop blabbering when she saw Matt, red-faced clutching Stefan as if he were going to disappear again.

Everyone talked at once. People kept pulling Stefan from one conversation to another. It took a while for him to realize Bonnie was no longer at his side, but he was simply too overjoyed and overwhelmed with the outpouring of love from his friends to make a big deal about it.

Some time later, Bonnie covertly looked around the room trying to pinpoint that notorious crop of midnight hair and shocking blue eyes, but Damon was nowhere in sight.

She turned back to the conversation she was trying to be a part of with Rebekah and Elena, when suddenly she was elbowed.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Elena said prior to taking a sip of her champagne. "He's only an hour and a half late."

"I guess they had to stop so _she_ could get a collagen refill. No way are those her natural lips," Rebekah drew a snide eye over the woman.

Bonnie focused her eyes towards the entrance and there he was. Her brother-in-law and controversial lover. Damon looked downright sinful in the tailored Armani suit he was wearing, but that wasn't the _only _thing he had on.

Her gaze trailed over to the Brazilian model that looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here amongst a group of commoners who made their money the old fashioned way. Everything about her said snooty. Bonnie tried her best not to be quick to judge, but it was hard. How dare he bring an outsider into their private affair!

_Okay, stop_ Bonnie admonished herself. Damon was not her property and he could date, see, or screw whoever he chose.

Still didn't mean she wanted to have it flaunted in her face. Then again wasn't she doing the exact same thing with Stefan?

Bonnie kept her attention locked on them and watched Damon and Stefan hug one another and then Damon introduced his friend. As Bonnie looked around the room, it was plain to see that Damon wasn't the only male who found the woman attractive. Seriously, why were the guys acting like they've never seen breasts and ass before?

"Becks, you might want to get a bib for your husband. And see if you can find a mop while you're at it," Bonnie snickered and sipped her mimosa.

Becks' face turned thunderous. "Excuse me, ladies. I'll be right back," she spoke through clenched teeth and wobbled her seven months pregnant self over to her husband.

Bonnie looked at her best friend and noticed she hadn't unglued her dark brown orbs from Damon's ass. Crap, not her too!

"Do I need to have a bib specially ordered for you, Elena?" Bonnie prayed her question was asked airily and not with edge, the type sharp enough to cut skin.

Elena shook her head. "What? I've always thought Damon was attractive and I'm nearing thirty. I want to get married and pump out some babies," she lifted her chin to her best friend. "And you have your Salvatore. Why can I have the other one?"

For various reasons Bonnie wasn't going to get into at the moment.

Elena leaned closer to whisper. "And if, hypothetically speaking, Damon and I were to get married that would make us sisters. So the way I see it, it's a win-win for everybody."

"Yeah," Bonnie snorted. "If only you were his type," and she might have said that a bit rudely.

Elena's eyes narrowed on Bonnie but she was soon distracted again.

Damon said something that had his small circle of admirers explode with laughter just prior to him detaching himself from the group. He headed straight for her, as he loosely held the model by the hand as he tugged her behind him.

"Bonnie," he kissed both of her cheeks in the formal European style before doing the same to, "Elena. You ladies look beautiful. Let me introduce you to my friend. Diana this is Bonnie, my _sister_-in-law, and her close friend Elena Gilbert."

The model gave both ladies watered down handshakes and a plastic smile. Bonnie was sure she'd get a warmer greeting at a KKK rally.

And it didn't escape her that Damon said the word "sister" with emphasis as if he was trying to make a point to either himself or her or to the both of them. In any case she tried to be as polite as she could, offering Diana something to eat or drink which the giraffe quickly refused and asked where the bathroom was. However, Damon didn't dismiss her without kissing her on the neck, on an area of the body he knew was one of Bonnie's favorite places to be kissed.

Bonnie took a step away leaving Damon and Elena to talk or whatever. She needed to do something because right now her temples were about to burst.

There were a few empty trays left on the table that Bonnie decided to take to the kitchen although tonight's event had been catered and there was a wait staff. She needed a moment to be alone and get her bearings under control before she snapped or said the wrong thing that could have the night ending in disaster.

Damon wasn't sure how long he had been standing and listening to Elena drone on and on about the snort-nosed, germ infested children she treated on a daily basis being the town's top pediatrician. In fact he wanted to douse his lips in hand sanitizer because she might be contagious and he had kissed her cheek.

He hmmed and hawed in all the appropriate places but his mind was on another matter entirely. Bonnie.

Black was definitely her color. Actually there wasn't a color she hadn't met that didn't look good against her sun kissed skin. But there was just something about black that appealed to Damon's senses that if he saw a woman outfitted in the color from head to toe regardless if she was drop dead gorgeous or not, he had to stop and look.

Bonnie had donned the Michael Kors number that hugged her curves like chocolate on a Snicker's bar. Hungry, why wait? He went in search for her.

"Excuse me, Elena." He left the chattering physician, forgot all about his model date who was probably doing a line of cocaine in the bathroom, and headed for the kitchen. He slipped inside without making any noise and observed her.

Her back was to him and he could tell something was bothering her from the way she gripped the counter. Unfortunately his attraction towards her didn't even move a single muscle in the week they were separated. The moment he saw her he had to restrain himself from instantly crossing over to her, drawing Bonnie into his arms and kissing her senseless. So Damon resorted to taking several detours before going over to her and looking into those sparkling malachite eyes of hers.

A part of him was glad she didn't like the fact he brought a date. Honestly it was a last minute decision on his end. Everyone would expect him, Damon Salvatore to show up with some woman on his arm who didn't appear real. And he wasn't one to disappoint, but he also wanted to make a point.

Bonnie might not want him because of circumstances beyond her control at the moment, that didn't mean he was going to sit on the sidelines, sulk and feel sorry for himself.

Yet there was that part of him that wanted to get a reaction out of Bonnie. He wanted her to pull him aside and scold him for bringing a date to flaunt in her face. When they argued it was typically over dumb stuff, never anything important, but the argument would turn heated in a New York minute and the next thing either of them knew, they'd be naked and on the floor.

That couldn't happen. Not with a house full of people and not with Stefan around.

Damon closed his eyes. He should be disgusted with himself. His brother's wife was constantly on his brain and he had no intentions to stop thinking about her. Although he should for his own sanity and solidarity.

"Bonnie."

She jumped and then turned to look at him over her shoulder. Her ponytail swished around her neck like a lasso. She _knew _what ponytails did to him.

Damon shifted his weight on his feet to keep from getting an erection. He cleared his throat. "Are you planning on hiding in here all night?"

"I just need a moment," she turned back to face the window.

Damon pushed away from the door and walked up behind her. He shouldn't touch her. He knew he was going to, and couldn't seem to help himself. Things happened when they touched.

Bonnie could barely make out his impression in the window. "Damon, not here, please," she begged him. Anyone could walk through the door and catch them.

He didn't listen. His fingers found their way to her shoulders and he began to massage them just a little before they trailed down her arms and then, slid around her waist pulling her flush against him.

Bonnie bit her lip to keep from making a single sound of pleasure because she felt _all _of Damon. His bottom lip grazed the outer shell of her ear.

"When can I see you?"

Chapter end.

**A/N: I know, bad me I keep cutting things off right when they get interesting. This scene will continue in the next chapter, and I hope it won't take me another month or so to update. My life is about to get crazy busy so I'll update when possible. But I hope you guys liked it. R&R! Love you!**


	6. The Struggle

**A/N: See, it didn't take a month for an update. Yeah! And just a special note: I in no way condone infidelity or adultery, but this is a STORY and freaky stuff has been known to happen. If you're not comfortable with the subject matter, stop reading now. I want all of my characters to have integrity, but humans make mistakes so I ask, not to judge until something has been definitively written down earning that reaction. Thanks and enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

Daredevil was his middle name. Living on the edge was his forte, breaking rules was his specialty. Damon didn't get to where he was in life by being careful, by playing it safe, by always doing the right thing. In this case, in this instance the right thing would have been to leave well enough alone, acknowledge that he made a mess of his life, and do what was necessary to clean it up.

So many signals were going off in his head to take a step back and observe this situation through shrewd and unbiased eyes. But he didn't feel like taking a step back. Not when Bonnie smelled like honey, like the sweetest perfume to tickle his nose. When he touched her his skin came alive. He couldn't accept being in a room with Bonnie and not catching her eyes, or making her well aware of the fact that she still had _some _ownership over him.

Bonnie's eyes closed and she got lost in the sensation of his voice as it infiltrated her eardrum. As much as she wanted to just cast everything aside, turn around and smash her lips into his, she couldn't. Stefan was just in the other room, and the thought of him catching her being unfaithful made pain lance through her with a force strong enough to cause Bonnie to launch herself out of Damon's arms and put the entire kitchen between them.

He was instantly bereft and chastised. Damon knew he had pushed his luck by being so forward with her and especially on a night meant to honor Stefan. His eyes to fell to his clenched hands, hands that were, a moment ago, filled with the women who kept him up late at night.

Damon cleared his throat and turned to face her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Bonnie looked rightfully peeved as she folded her arms over her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. "You can't do that," she practically hissed. "You can't…_touch _me as if my husband isn't standing just on the other side of this door. Have you lost your mind?"

Yes, he gave up rights to having a rational mind the first night they slept together. Didn't she know that? Didn't she _get_ the memo? His glacial eyes glided over her from top to bottom to top again before settling on her eyes, and those eyes looking at him were enlarged with fear. Damon swallowed thickly as the noise from the party pounded in his ears, effectively drowning out the fantasy that played in his head that he tried to turn into a reality.

"Bonnie…I just want to talk to you."

"And you can talk to me without touching me," she lowered her voice and then sighed heavily. "Damon, look, we ended things abruptly and they had to for a reason. Does that mean I like the situation we're now in, of course not, but…Stefan is my _husband _and I can't continue to be selfish and dishonor him. I'm sorry."

Damon could argue this point and throw the question of where was that "honor" when she was fucking his brains out, but he didn't want to cast that stone because Bonnie could ask him the very same thing. If he really, honestly loved his brother he never would have initiated his and Bonnie's first kiss, and he certainly wouldn't have pursued her the way he had.

If there was something Damon could give his father credit for it would be for teaching him how to be tenacious, cutthroat, and relentless.

Anyone who had a loosely based moral compass would say it was tenacious to pursue his sister-in-law, and of course that also made him cutthroat because he was eviscerating the memory of his brother each and every single time he pounded into Bonnie. Yet what Damon chose to focus on was how he had been relentless in his pursuit.

After he tasted Bonnie's mouth for the first time, it was all she wrote. It was a week after Valentine's Day and Damon had flown into town so that Bonnie wouldn't be alone. It had snowed that morning and the streets were slick with ice and sleet. Bonnie had been worried sick about him driving, but Damon assured her that driving in Mystic Falls after a snowfall was nothing compared to New York, and that he would be fine.

When he showed up at her doorstep two hours later than his estimated time of arrival, Bonnie had been practically hysterical. She threw all these outlandish scenarios at him like daggers because she had imagined the worst to explain why he was so late. Nothing he said calmed her down, took away her fear that she could have lost him as well; and it wasn't until he wrestled Bonnie into his arms, wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, and studied her frightened face that he felt something for this woman shift dangerously to an area it had no business going.

He couldn't pinpoint when Bonnie had become so dependent on him. But it was in that moment Damon realized he needed her just as much as she needed him.

Kissing her wasn't premeditated on his part. Her lips were there, looking oh so appealing and appetizing and he just wanted a quick sample. So Damon did what came as naturally as breathing to him, cleared the distance which separated them, and sealed his mouth over Bonnie's.

At first she didn't respond. She was simply too shocked to act accordingly, but the minute Damon applied more pressure, deepened the kiss, the stiffness ebbed out of her body and Bonnie was retuning his kiss with as much passion as he was giving.

However, the gravity of what they were doing must have slammed into Bonnie because she instantly pulled away from him and proceeded to slap him into next week. Bonnie had ordered him out of her house, and she cut all ties and communication with him.

Damon didn't take no for an answer. He felt _something _and it was that something which told him things weren't as one-sided as Bonnie wanted to make them.

It took about a month and a half to get Bonnie to agree to have lunch with him. Things had started off innocently enough. Damon had been the perfect gentleman, weakening her defenses because they were up as if she worked for Homeland Security. And by the time he paid the tab, he was back in Bonnie's good graces with a dinner invitation to boot.

Yet Damon returned his focus back to the moment at hand.

Still his palms itched to feel her again but Bonnie would not welcome it. "What do you expect me to do, Bonnie?" he asked plaintively. "Do you want me to wipe what we had from my memory? Do you need me to make an appointment with your office for a full frontal lobotomy because that's what it's going to take to get me to forget how you feel in my arms, what you sound like when you cum."

Her skin was flushing while her mouth was going dry. Bonnie took another step back. She would not give into her urge to kiss Damon, to lose herself in his arms. She wouldn't have her cake and eat it to and plus his plate.

However, if he was going to regulate all they did and shared down to sex, it would be easier for Bonnie to close the chapter in this book. Her face hardened and her once animated green eyes flattened to dull.

"My marriage means the world to me, Damon. And I'm not going to disrespect it. Not even for _you_."

_Ouch_, something just lacerated his aorta and he was bleeding to death internally.

"Enjoy the party."

Yeah, right Damon thought as he leaned against the kitchen island. He allowed Bonnie to leave because otherwise he would have made her stay. He had ways to do it. Damon counted slowly, breathed in and out of his nose and then...

Destroyed everything that was on the kitchen island, pushing platters, silverware, and plates to the floor. The wait staff rushed to the kitchen after hearing the clatter and stared in disbelief at the ruined kitchen before turning heated eyes on Damon.

"Get the HELL out!" he snarled at them.

They quickly did as ordered.

* * *

><p>Bonnie heard what Damon did in the kitchen, her heart hammering in her chest. She regretted that she had to hurt him, knew there was a better way to get her point across, but…Stefan was her priority and she needed to remind the both of them of that fact.<p>

When he was calm enough, Damon left the sanctuary of the kitchen.

His date finally tore herself from the bathroom, her nostrils looking a little red and inflamed. His lip curled in disgust. Damon broke another rule of his. The woman of the night had to be clean and drug-free. But whatever. It wasn't like he was going to marry the chick.

Damon laughed derisively as he thought of marriage and his silver-blue eyes traversed over to Bonnie and Stefan. She was now all smiles and wrapped around her husband like a koala bear behaving as if she weren't a tiny bit wet between her legs, and that she didn't intentionally hurt his feelings.

His date approached him. "Can we ditch this thing?" she slithered closer to him and snaked her tongue out to run it down the shell of his ear. Damon jerked away.

"Your ass is free to leave whenever you want," he said brutally. "And you might want to put a rush on that because there are a few cops here, crackhead."

Diana looked around nervously. Damon snickered lowly as he walked away and confiscated a flute of champagne but then he wanted something stronger.

Across the room, Bonnie and Stefan were doing a simple two step. He traced her chin with his finger. "Are you okay? You're shaking."

Yeah, that happens when your adrenaline is running through your nervous system. "I'm just…overwhelmed," she smiled. "But I'm fine."

Stefan studied her closely. He might not remember all of her quirks yet it was easy enough to see that something had upset Bonnie.

He stopped dancing and took Bonnie by the hand. "Come with me."

She followed after him as he weaved through the crowd, headed straight for the staircase. Wordlessly they went up to the third floor and entered the only room on the east end of the house. A wry smile popped out on Bonnie's face as Stefan turned the knob and entered his old bedroom.

He flicked on the light flooding the room in soft lighting. Not much had changed. His old bed was still pushed up against the far wall, taking up most of the room. The bookcase overflowed with books, and one of his armoires had remained.

Holding Bonnie by the hand, Stefan shut the door, and together they headed over to the bed.

Bonnie bounced against it and Stefan soon followed. They sat side by side as they were inundated with memories of spending hours and hours in this room, plotting and mapping out the rest of their lives. Eating in bed, watching movies, making love.

Bonnie brushed a manicured hand across the antique duvet that covered the mattress. "I miss this room," she said.

"I do, too. We had some good times here."

Bonnie looked at her husband prior to falling backwards. Stefan studied the way she was stretched out against the bed in silent invitation to join her, which he did. He leaned over and captured her chin between his fingers before kissing her.

A soft sigh escaped Bonnie's lips as she cupped the back of Stefan's head and buried her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Her nails scraping against his flesh made his dick jump in his pants. Stefan deepened the kiss and switched positions until he was looming over Bonnie and was pressing between her legs.

Earlier that night he had done nothing but bring her to completion with his mouth. Someone from somewhere told him the biggest obstacle was sometimes getting through the first orgasm. And he thought perhaps that's what was holding Bonnie back. She needed to experience her first orgasm after such a long drought. Now things could flow easily and without complications between them.

Bonnie whimpered under the assault Stefan was leading against her lips. They were already swollen, and there was an insistent throb taking place between her legs. As much as she was ready to give in fully to her husband they were in a house full of people, much to her chagrin. But she needed to get over this obstacle and really recommit herself to her marriage.

The first step would be is to make love to Stefan.

His fingers reached for the hem of her dress and began to tug it up. Stefan had tried to show some restraint but from the way Bonnie moved against him, and the fact it had been two years since he last felt her, he was impatient. He could give a good hot damn about them being in a house full of people. In fact he wanted people to hear what he was doing to his wife, that he still had it, the ability to drive her up the freaking wall.

Once her dress was high enough, Stefan ran a finger along her slit. His digit was soaked.

"Oh, God," he gulped after taking a much needed breath of air. There was a very noticeable tent in his trousers.

Bonnie, lips raw, stared up at her husband and wondered why he stopped. "What's wrong?"

Stefan shook his head and smiled. "Nothing." He kissed her hard and then removed her panties, and stuffed them in his pocket.

Bonnie smiled naughtily at him, grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and tugged him back down. She then transferred her hands to his belt and began to unbuckle it. This time when the sound of his zipper lowered, Bonnie didn't scream. She moaned and the guttural sound that came from Stefan when she traced the shape of him with her heated fingers, made her wiggle even closer to him.

There was no turning back as far as Stefan was concerned. He held Bonnie by the hip and surged forward impaling himself deep in her womb. Her back arched off the bed. Her toes curled and she felt like she already came because her inner muscles clutched and contracted against him.

Stefan nearly bit his lip off. His heart was hammering in his chest and he tried so hard not to come. Not now. Not after just entering her, but oh, oh, think about old ladies, road kill, something, anything! Don't think about how tight and warm she is!

"Shit!" he said and exploded, dumping his load into Bonnie.

Her eyes snapped open and she stared at him incredulously.

Stefan trembled and stuttered before collapsing on Bonnie. "I'm…sorry…" he apologized feeling embarrassed and mortified. But she felt _too _good. Bonnie was _too _tight, and _too _warm that it just couldn't be avoided.

Bonnie tried so hard not to laugh, she really did. A giggle escaped and she cut it off, but another one quickly followed and then she just couldn't control it.

"Shut up," Stefan threatened and then had to laugh at himself in a self-deprecating way.

Bonnie cupped his cheeks. "My poor little…can I even call you a minute man?"

"Bonnie I will punch you in the face right now," he grumbled and slid out of her, completely limp and down for the count. This was pathetic and if it had happened to anyone else he would have been rolling on the floor holding his stomach, bleeding tears due to laughing so hard.

Stefan rolled to a sitting position and glared at his penis. "I'm not speaking to you for a week."

Bonnie sat up and pulled her dress down. She placed her chin on Stefan's shoulder, and rubbed soothing circles on his back. "It's okay, sweetie. This happens even to the best of them."

"It doesn't happen to _me_," he placed a hand on his chest to emphasize his point. "You know I can go for hours."

"And we'll get back to where we were." Pause. "You want to know what this means?"

"What?" he looked over at her, not anticipating the punch line.

"This means I still got it." Bonnie rose to her feet to head to the bathroom to clean herself up, but not without receiving a sharp slap to her jiggling ass. She jumped, stared over her shoulder at Stefan, and stuck her tongue out at him.

Not having anything else to do, Stefan followed behind her.

Downstairs, Damon did his best not to think about what Stefan and Bonnie could be doing upstairs. And he certainly didn't check his watch every few minutes or so to keep track of how long they had been gone. Things were nearing the thirty minute mark and he was fully prepared to go and break up their little after party.

Just as he was starting on his fifth drink of the evening, he saw them reenter the living room arm and arm sly smiles on their faces. Bonnie was glowing and he _knew_ that glow. Damon was glad he didn't have superhuman strength because the grip he had on his glass would have shattered it. She turns _him _down and sneaks off to fuck her husband? Who does that?

Damon shook his head and realized all the alcohol consumption was making him stupid. Yet that uncomfortable feeling of pain, anguish, and anger burned deep mixing up the contents of his belly. He instantly felt queasy as if he very well might paint the floor with vomit. Bile tickled the back of his throat and the room was closing in and making him feel trapped and hot.

Unfortunately Damon couldn't make a classy escape. There was still one thing left on the agenda for him to do. He sat his glass down on the wet bar and dug in his pant pocket for the ring box. He took a deep breath, called on everything that made him a Salvatore and walked up to Bonnie and Stefan.

Bonnie stiffened when she saw Damon heading towards her and Stefan, yet she quickly averted her eyes.

Damon stopped just a foot away from his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone! Everyone! If I can I have your attention, please."

The crowd simmered down and focused their attention on the threesome. Bonnie had no idea what Damon was about to do, but nevertheless she refused to let Stefan go.

"Two years ago our lives, all our lives changed when we got a phone call that Stefan had gone missing. We searched for hours on end and prayed to every single god we could think to pray to, to bring him back. And apparently our prayers have been heard and were answered. Three weeks ago, I along with my beautiful sister-in-law flew to Bozeman, Montana to retrieve someone very near and dear to us, my brother Stefan."

The crowd clapped, cheered, and whistled. Stefan demurely looked down at his feet. He hated there was a large part of him that was bashful.

"So now I think it's time that I return this to its rightful owner." Damon took out the ring box and handed it over to his brother.

Stefan curiously opened it and his jaw dropped. It was his lapis lazuli signet ring. Damon had one as well for it was an heirloom passed down to sons in the Salvatore brood. Stefan took the large ring out of the box and studied it for a minute before slipping it on his right hand.

Bonnie gasped. She had forgotten all about Stefan's ring. When she looked over at Damon she didn't see his family ring, but then he slipped his hand in his other pocket, taking out his and slipped on his left hand.

"These rings have been in our family for centuries," Damon continued. "They have the Salvatore family crest emblazoned over a lapis lazuli stone. They're passed down from generation to generation and we will keep the tradition alive and pass them along to our sons. But in the mean time Stefan and I will continue to wear our family crest proudly and like good Italian bambinos."

Stefan grinned and then hugged his brother fiercely. "Thank you, Damon."

"You're welcome, man. Now get off me."

The younger Salvatore laughed and punched Damon on the shoulder. Reluctantly Damon looked at Bonnie and found her staring back at him, unguarded. She mouthed, "thank you" and he inclined his head.

Elena strolled over, a huge smile on her face, glassy-eyed. Bonnie knew what that meant. She had herself a _very_ good time and was beginning to feel loose.

"Do you mind if I borrow him for a second?" her words slurring together, as Elena reached for Stefan. "He hasn't danced with me all night," she hiccupped.

Stefan looked at Bonnie for permission. He knew the rule. Bonnie nodded her head and watched as a giggling Elena took off with her husband thereby leaving her stranded with her looming brother-in-law.

Despite her words spoken earlier, it didn't deter him one iota from wanting to be near Bonnie in any capacity. Good lord he was weak, but he sighed heavily. He was in love.

Wordlessly Damon extended a hand which Bonnie studied for a minute longer than necessary before accepting the offer. Damon purposely steered them as faraway from his brother and other prying eyes and nosy ears. He swung Bonnie in front of him. He wouldn't consider himself the best dancer on the face of the planet. Damon had always been just a touch shy above rhythm-less his entire life, but he could do a simple two-step to whatever music was playing.

He sighed deeply as he dared to bring Bonnie's warm body as close to him without seeming inappropriate. Damon wanted to lace their fingers together but Bonnie wasn't having any of that. Her eyes flared in warning before she looked at a point over his shoulder as they began to move.

"Is this your way of ignoring me?" he asked when Bonnie refused to make eye contact with him.

"This night is about Stefan and so will every night that follows."

Damon warred with himself on asking this question, but his mouth sometimes got away from him. "What were you doing upstairs?"

"None of your business," Bonnie snorted and was ready to end the dance. She attempted to pull away but Damon tugged until her breasts were flattened against his chest.

Heat spiked through Bonnie which she promptly stomped down.

"You smell like him," he growled accusingly.

Bonnie snorted derisively. "Of course I smell like him. I've been close to him all night," she snapped.

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Look, Damon don't do this whole jealously thing. Did I say anything when you brought that coke-head model here? No. So keep your opinions about my smell to yourself."

"Bonnie, why are you being like this?"

She finally looked at him—incredulously. "Like what?"

"Cold. Do you think you have to treat me like a pariah to send a message that you belong to Stefan. I _get _that, but you know I don't look at you as my sister-in-law. That went out the window months ago."

Bonnie sighed heavily and wouldn't give his words an ounce of credence. She needed to place barriers between them and no he wouldn't like it but it had to be done. She would not be one of those women you saw on talk shows or on soap operas, stringing two men along, men who happen to be brothers. This crap only happens in the movies, but this unfortunately was her life.

Softly she said, "Damon I have to do what's best for everyone. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't have to be rude." Bonnie paused and stared deep into his eyes. "You mean so much to me."

Damon felt his heart swell and soar.

"But I'm Stefan's wife and I will honor the vows we shared. I have to let you go…for good."

And then it fractured into a million pieces to which Bonnie turned them into dust with her Gucci pumps.

Bonnie pulled away from Damon once the song ended and he let her go, shoulders slumped. The back of his neck was a bright cherry red and all he wanted to do was throw everyone out of his family home. It wasn't right that Bonnie could decide everything in their relationship. She had had total control from day one and here he stood, alone, a total bystander.

And right now all he wanted to do was screw his feelings away by screwing. Where was that model bitch?

* * *

><p>The party came to a close around one in the morning. Stefan and Bonnie rode back to their townhome in companionable silence and got lost in their bedroom the minute they arrived home.<p>

Seated at her vanity and brushing her hair until it turned wavy, Bonnie thought back over the night. She smiled as she had a flashback of Matt trying to lift Rebekah and nearly threw his back out because of it. Rebekah had been horribly embarrassed and was ready to call it a night, but several other partygoers convinced her to stay.

Naturally her thoughts shifted towards Damon. She did wonder if he went home alone tonight and she also thought of her own semi-appalling behavior. She had been so ready to kiss him in the kitchen, and then she reprimanded him because she was feeling threatened and little bit jealous and insecure that he could so easily move on, disregarding the last six months they spent together rolling around on whatever flat surface they could find.

She switched off those traitorous thoughts when Stefan entered the room sans shirt. Bonnie would never get tired of looking at him.

Stefan was everything a man ought to be. He had manners but he was no mama's boy, pushover weakling. He was tough and street smart which she loved the most about him. But he was also worldly, and a generous lover.

No matter her inexplicable feelings for Damon, she didn't want to let go of Stefan. She couldn't. He was far too imbedded in her system.

Yet there was that tickling sensation that was telling her she was a liar, and that her once burning and insatiable love for Stefan was no longer what is used to be. That she transferred those feelings on to someone else. Someone with hair black as night and eyes as blue as the water off the Caribbean coast.

She rose from the vanity and joined Stefan on the bed. Bonnie straddled his hips and kissed the tip of his nose. He planted his hands firmly on her hips and held her steady.

"Did you have fun tonight?" she nuzzled his neck.

"I did. It was good seeing everyone again. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by how much things have changed but at the same time stayed the same in the last two years. It kind of almost seems as if I never left."

Bonnie smiled although a bit sadly. If only that statement could be applied to her situation.

Nevertheless Bonnie rolled off of Stefan, settled beside him, and used his shoulder as a pillow.

"Is everything all right with you and Damon?"

His question caught Bonnie so off guard that she nearly bolted out of bed. Her heart began hammering and she put a modicum of space between herself and Stefan.

"Why do you ask that?"

"When you were dancing with him it looked like you were upset with him about something, and Damon didn't look too happy either. What did he do?"

She couldn't answer that because if she did she'd lose everything and Stefan might actually go out and kill his brother and then end up on America's Most Wanted.

Bonnie waved off Stefan's concern hating to downplay and of course lie to the man she married. "Damon was being Damon and I just let him know I didn't appreciate it."

Stefan stared down at Bonnie in that way which made her feel transparent. He was searching for something, that much was obvious, and Bonnie for her sake hoped she didn't let anything leak out.

After a minute, Stefan wrapped his arm around Bonnie, drawing her closer. "I'll talk to him. Tell him to lay off the missus."

Bonnie laughed but it sounded shaky. "You don't have to do that, Stefan. Really, it wasn't a big deal."

Her hand reached for his right hand where she began to twist his lapis lazuli ring. The thing was large enough to rival a Superbowl championship ring.

"I see modesty wasn't in your ancestors' vocabulary," Bonnie remarked.

"Yeah, I think the Salvatore's probably originated in Texas where they say everything is bigger there. Kiss?"

Bonnie angled her head and felt warmth spread through her when Stefan's lips touched hers.

* * *

><p>The day had been long, exhausting, and stereotypical. Damon checked his BlackBerry and saw four emails from women he met at a conference he attended in Las Vegas last spring. They were all conveniently in town and wanted to meet up and have dinner. Any other day he would have popped a vitamin, guzzled a Red Bull, and did thirty minutes of cardio to get his heart pumping and his energy up before getting ready for a night out on the town.<p>

Yet Damon didn't feel like going through the motions. His emotions were in the collective toilet waiting to be flushed. All week his thoughts had been stuck on repeat as he replayed over and over again the moment where Bonnie said she had to let him go—for good. What was he supposed to do with that?

Sulk. It was the only viable solution.

Tonight was a "meh" kind of night for Damon and all he wanted to do was settle in front of the TV with a brewskie and watch mindless television until he drooled on himself.

The sounds of Usher's_ Climax_ vibed through the speakers of his Audi A8 as he drove to the ritzy side of Mystic Falls. By week's end he would be boarding a plane to head back to New York where he would stay permanently.

If he had any hope to resurrect the life he used to have, Damon needed to put as many miles between him and his sleepy hometown. The decision to leave wasn't an easy one. And what solidified his decision to pack up and leave was the harsh reality that the woman he loved wasn't going to break her vow and leave her husband.

Damon had placed himself in Bonnie's shoes. If he was married to the love of his life, and that love died, and he moved on with someone else, but then miraculously his love came back, Damon knew in the bottom of his heart he would return to his wife.

Salvatore men were raised to protect and love their family almost obsessively. They were not flighty men who changed their minds on a whim or because they lost a hand of poker. He and Stefan came from a generation of no matter how ugly or tough it got you stuck it out till the very end. And it was this education that told Damon no matter how much and fiercely he may love Bonnie, Stefan would never give her up.

Even if the truth was ever revealed.

He hadn't shared the news with either his brother or Bonnie about his impending departure. He figured he'd wait until he was on the plane, in the air, so that it would be far too late for them to talk him out of it.

Was it a punk move? Sure. Damon wouldn't lie about it. In essence he was sneaking out like a cat burglar only because he couldn't face Bonnie. Not when he felt too raw on the inside about her treatment of him and her obvious favoritism towards her husband.

Damon made a sharp right turn on his street and headed for the parking garage. Once he slid into his spot, retrieved his satchel, and activated the car alarm, he took the private elevator all the way up to his penthouse suite.

He was staring at his feet as he shuffled his keys looking for the one to his house, when Damon got the distinct impression that he wasn't alone. Looking up he saw his brother.

Damon slowed his steps. "Stefan…what's up? What are you doing here?"

Stefan's eyes looked shifty and glassy. Damon wondered if he was drunk but he quickly discarded that because Stefan drank wine not hard liquor, and also his brother looked lost. Had he lost his memory again?

Feeling his heart thud against his ribcage, Damon cleared the distance that separated them.

"Sorry to show up like this," Stefan shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I found out something today."

Uh-oh, Damon's heart began to do the Cupid Shuffle. To the left, to the left, to the left, now kick.

Damon didn't say another word. He unlocked the door, turned on some lights and went into his kitchen where he pulled out two bottles of beer. Retracing his steps he handed one over to Stefan who promptly sat it on the coffee table.

Stefan dumped his body on the black leather sectional, his eyes going all over the place. "You have a really nice penthouse, Damon."

The older Salvatore shrugged. You been to one nice penthouse you've been to them all. "What this dump?" he said to lighten the mood.

Stefan couldn't even stretch his lips into a placatory smile. Instead, he scrubbed a hand over his face and then pinned his brother with what Damon could only describe as "you're about to hear some shit that I can't figure out" look.

"I got an urgent call from my lawyer Mason Lockwood," Stefan began. Damon nodded in silent acknowledgement that he knew who Mason was. "He wanted Bonnie and me to come down to his office, so we did. Over the phone he wouldn't tell us what it was about, he just said to get down there as soon as possible. So we're there and he goes on and on about the paperwork he has to submit to the state to have my legally being declared dead overturned. However, because I was declared dead, it made my marriage to Bonnie null and void."

Damon quirked his head a bit and his eyes squinted out of habit when he was trying to figure something out.

"So what you're saying is…?" Damon felt his heart hammering but for a different reason.

"What I'm saying is that my marriage to Bonnie is no longer valid in the state of Virginia or any state for that matter since Bonnie can't be married to a dead man," he ended testily. "Can you believe that shit? They weren't playing when they said till _death_ do you part," Stefan laughed humorlessly.

Damon's world literally stopped spinning. He was sure he lost the ability to see, hear, think, and smell because this was too surreal. Bonnie and Stefan weren't _married? _Their union was no longer recognized by the state of Virginia? That meant she was free? Single by a technicality? She wasn't Stefan's wife?

Damon swallowed—hard. "So let me get this straight. Your marriage ended once you were declared dead?"

Stefan winced but otherwise nodded.

"And since you aren't dead that still means you're not married to Bonnie due to paperwork that has to be processed?"

Again, Stefan bobbed his head.

"And your marriage can only be reinstated if you…?"

"Mason said once the paperwork goes through which will take about thirty to sixty days, Bonnie and I will legally be able to get married…again. He said we could go to the justice of the peace, or have an actual wedding."

Would it be rude of Damon to leap into the air and do a tap dance on the ceiling? All this time he and everyone else had been looking at and treating Bonnie as Stefan's wife when by law she wasn't. And how had that one, _major_ detail escaped him, Damon wondered. As he thought about it, he couldn't believe he naturally assumed that Bonnie automatically became Stefan's wife again the minute his brother was found.

That was not the case. There was paperwork and legal ramifications that dissolved their marriage and just because Stefan was alive it would take more than the snap of the fingers to make him and Bonnie husband and wife again.

Damon knew he should be there consoling his brother since he looked so broken up about this, but Damon was taking this as a sign. A sign that it wasn't time to give up the fight, throw in the towel, and walk away. Bonnie wasn't married. Hadn't been married since she signed on the dotted line declaring Stefan as dead. He was a horrible brother because all Damon could think about was convincing Bonnie to make a clean break with Stefan so that they could resume the relationship they shared before their imperfect world imploded.

However, as Damon took a step back he realized that Stefan appeared deeply troubled, and it made his nosy head rear.

"If all you have to do is get married again why are you looking like someone just ran over your puppy?" Damon questioned.

"You weren't there. Bonnie hesitated…she actually hesitated when Mason brought up the subject of remarriage. It was like she had to think about it before she agreed that we _should _do as he advised. Why would she react that way, Damon? If she loves me her response would have been automatic."

Okay, Damon didn't like where this conversation was going. If Bonnie was having doubt about remarrying Stefan what did that mean for _him_? Did that mean Bonnie cared for him more than she let on? Did it mean she didn't want to let go of what they shared no more than he did? Damon wanted—no needed—answers, because what he was planning to do next would not earn him the Brother of the Year award.

As far as Damon was concerned, Bonnie was fair game.

But he had to be smart about this. "Bonnie…loves you," the words got lodged uncomfortably in Damon's throat. "Of course she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. Maybe she was just afraid because she lost you once while you guys were married and she thinks if you remarry it might happen again."

And he couldn't figure out for the life of him why he would say that to his little brother, but he did. Damon might be a dick, but he wasn't entirely heartless, and he didn't want to see Stefan in pain. Not if it could be avoided.

Stefan looked at his brother sharply, contemplating Damon's words. "Maybe," he said doubtfully. "My gut is telling me something far different," Stefan sighed and sat down on the sofa again. "I know you said that none of my friends tried to get with her, but what if someone else did? What if…Bonnie had been involved with someone and cut things off once she found out I was alive? It happens."

That tight knot in Damon's stomach was back.

Stefan continued talking, ignoring the green pallor on Damon's face. "And if that's the case then that means she probably has feelings for the guy. My God what if she's in love! And she's only with me out of a sense of obligation!"

Damon snapped to his feet as if someone stuck him in a frying pan. He approached Stefan and laid his hands on his shoulders.

"All right, you need to calm down. You're only going to make yourself paranoid and that's not what either of you need at the moment. Bonnie wants to be with _you. _Take that and move on."

Stefan shook his head. Things couldn't possibly fall back into place that easily. That wasn't life.

"I love her, Damon. I…I can't lose her. I mean if she was seeing someone and she left him for me…that means something, right? It means she doesn't want to be with anyone else."

Damon cleared his throat. "Yep," he plopped the "P".

"I'm going to go home…talk to her."

"You do that," Damon said listlessly although that was the last thing he wanted Stefan and Bonnie to do.

"I'm sorry I dumped all of this on you," Stefan muttered sheepishly as Damon walked him to the door.

Damon did his best impression of a smile. "It's what I'm here for. If you need me you know where to find me."

Stefan nodded and then clapped Damon's arm. "Thanks, bro. I'll see you later."

"Later," Damon drawled and closed the door after Stefan left. Damon slumped against it and warred with if now would be the right time to call Bonnie.

He'd wait.

Damon sauntered to his bedroom, dragging his fingers along the wall. "Bonnie is a free agent. Bonnie isn't a married woman. At least she will be…"

Chapter end.

**A/N: So…Bonnie and Stefan aren't married. I am in no way a lawyer or know what the laws state about having someone legally declared dead, but I think we all know you can't be married to a dead person. Does this make things that much more complicated now that Bonnie knows by law she isn't Stefan's wife? In her heart she still is, legally nope. And what will Damon do now that he's armed with this information? We shall see. Thanks for reading and leaving me your thoughts, guys. Love you.**


	7. Down Memory Lane

**A/N: Hi everyone. Here is the latest and the greatest. Thank you for the reviews! Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p>It felt good to be back at work. After being surprised with a welcome back breakfast organized by her fellow colleagues and assistant, Bonnie finally made her way inside her contemporary styled office. The first thing to greet her upon pushing open the door was the aroma of her favorite flowers.<p>

A smile bloomed on her face as Bonnie switched on the light. Sitting there in the middle of her desk was a large bouquet of calla lilies.

Placing her attaché and coat down on an overstuffed chair, Bonnie crossed over to her desk and picked up the card that rested at the base of the crystal vase. She sampled the sweet nectar of the flowers before opening the card and reading the words.

Little by little her smile faded as her heart began to hammer in her chest.

These flowers weren't a romantic gesture from her…from Stefan. Bonnie swallowed thickly as she was painfully reminded of the harsh truth she learned last week that now made her feel like some type of fugitive.

She was no longer married according to the Commonwealth of Virginia. Stefan Salvatore was not her husband, and she in a sense was living in sin although it didn't feel that way. In her heart she was still married. On paper was a totally different story.

But this precious bouquet was from Damon. Which meant, he knew.

On slightly wobbly legs, Bonnie took a seat in her executive style chair behind her desk. She avoided reading the card again. Besides she didn't have to due to the fact she had already memorized his words.

Bonnie began spiraling down memory lane as she thought of the last time Damon sent her flowers. He probably did this on purpose knowing it would provoke one memory she fought tooth and nail to get out of her mind. That memory, however, was a stubborn thing that refused to budge.

Her first scheduled appointment wasn't until nine-thirty which left her approximately half an hour to organize her office, go over last minute details with her assistant, and make a few personal calls. The first person on her list to call would be Stefan to let him know she had arrived safely at the office. On the other hand, Bonnie thought she should call Damon to thank him for the flowers, but then rip him a new one because he couldn't pull this kind of trick.

Just as she picked up the phone to do just that, her hand stilled and a faraway look came to her eyes. Bonnie slowly lowered the receiver back to its base and thought. Sometimes the best action to take was no action at all.

* * *

><p>Damon stood in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows in his office which offered a panoramic view of downtown Manhattan. Being back in New York, Damon was in his element again. His thought processes were clearer, his focus sharper, and it didn't hurt that his agenda had once again been altered. He had fully prepared himself to mope through the next few months in a poor attempt to leave the past behind him, and reestablish his bachelorhood and notorious serial dating.<p>

Yet everything changed the minute he learned Bonnie and Stefan weren't married. That meant doorways could be open, and perhaps one of them led to Bonnie's heart. But as he thought, Damon could admit to being sloppy and negligent in other areas of his life. His superiors gladly hadn't picked up on the fact he was distracted but his assistant Caroline, who never missed anything, was the only person who commented on the fact that he seemed to have two minds about everything.

"Mr. Salvatore is everything okay?" Caroline had asked tentatively.

His ice-blue eyes stared at her sharply and suspiciously. Sometimes Caroline had the ability to be too intuitive and the thoughts that were parading around in his mind could not, under any circumstances become public knowledge. A lot was riding on how he handled this delicate situation because one misstep and things could napalm right in his face.

"Everything is good, Caroline. In fact so good why don't you take an extended lunch or something. I don't have any meetings scheduled until late afternoon. And if I need anything one of the other secretaries can help me."

Surprise was clearly reflected on her face because Damon was not the sort of manager who gave anyone any type of leeway. Sure he may have been guilty of doing some light flirting and brown-nosing but he certainly wasn't one to just be nice for no reason at all.

Caroline had beamed, thanked him profusely, and quickly got missing. With her gone it left Damon plenty of time to think uninterrupted.

His first plan of attack, he decided, would be to send Bonnie a bouquet of her favorite flowers each week with a card inscribed with a reminder of something they did together. He didn't really do the whole wine and dine thing. It wasn't entirely his style but for Bonnie he would concede.

Did a part of him feel like a bastard for going after his brother's wife? Sure. That went without saying. But Damon felt he had just as much right to Bonnie as Stefan did and may the best man win. Not saying she was a trophy to be placed on a mantle and occasionally dusted off. Yet according to law, Bonnie was single which in his mind translated into being fair game.

Damon sighed. He just wanted a shot at happiness too. More importantly, there was no getting around the fact his brother had the right to know about everything that happened while he was in Montana. It wasn't right that he and Bonnie were keeping such a massive secret from Stefan. If they loved him like they claimed, they would come clean, put everything out on the table, and then sit back to see what would happen next.

That would be the logical thing to do. However, this was an illogical situation where Damon didn't know in whose favor the scales would tip. Bonnie might do the honorable thing and leave them both as not to come between their familial bond. Damon couldn't allow that to happen under any circumstances. He needed Bonnie in his life, and if she could only fill the role as being his sister-in-law, then grudgingly he'd have to accept it and try to move on.

It would not be easy and he wasn't looking forward to the journey. But he had to put himself out there to let Bonnie make the decision. If he sat back and did nothing it would only fuel her speculations that he was only in it for sex and nothing else. Things between them may have begun that way, but even Bonnie had to have picked up on the fact that when he stared at her it wasn't because he was undressing her. It was because she fascinated him, teased his senses, and presented such a mystery that he loved figuring out like a good thriller.

She should have received the bouquet already. Damon was tempted to call her, but the card he left said all he needed to say. He'd wet her appetite and maybe, if he were lucky, something else might get wet.

* * *

><p>The stress of the last few weeks was finally leaving, and Stefan was beginning to feel comfortable in his skin. He had a lot of decisions to make in terms of rectifying his martial situation, and of course whether or not he would try to resume working on opening up his own photography studio.<p>

Before he disappeared, Stefan was a freelance web developer for major conglomerates around the world and was also an IT specialist. Both ventures had turned out to be profitable and very lucrative, but it wasn't what Stefan would say was his passion. Photography had been it for him, and he was thinking it was time to cultivate it more.

It had been years since he picked up a camera, stared through a lens, captured something truly remarkable on film. Bonnie had made the suggestion as she got ready for work, that he might want to go around town and see if anything inspired him.

Stefan had sat on the bed—shirtless as he watched Bonnie parade around in her red lacy bra and black pencil skirt. His young, beautiful wife had an amazing body. Bonnie certainly didn't appear as if she would be turning the big 3-0 in two years. In fact she still looked like a freshman in college.

Yet her mention of photography certainly stirred something inside of Stefan and he wanted to do just that. So after walking Bonnie to her Range Rover, Stefan kissed her goodbye, got dressed, found his camera equipment and headed out on foot to take some shots.

The day was nearly half over by the time he returned home, and headed to his dark room to process the shots.

As he did this, his thoughts naturally turned to the fact he was no longer a married man. Stefan stared at the platinum band on his left ring finger. Bonnie had given it back to him on his first night in Mystic Falls. It solidified what he felt on the inside and to find out that his marriage had been dissolved, he felt lost all over again.

Once they left Mason Lockwood's office the ride back to their humble abode had been tense and silent. Stefan had no idea what Bonnie could have been thinking. He wasn't sure if she was already planning a wedding or if she were considering not going through the trouble at all and just leave things the way they were. Whenever that particular thought traipsed through his mind it left Stefan feeling as if he were jabbed in the stomach and the wind was knocked out of him.

However, the revelation made his guilt about something else lessen. Stefan was not the type of person to let things go easily. If something affected him it stuck with him for a long time. After his mom died of cancer, Stefan had held on to his grief and pain for years to the point that it changed him entirely, and he was hardly recognizable to those who had known him since he was a kid. He was sensitive yet also impenetrable to most things.

He had wasted no much time questioning Damon on the topic of Bonnie potentially moving on. He did so mainly to measure the knowledge against his own guilt of leaving someone behind in Montana who touched his heart.

Stefan tried not to think about _her. _Everything between them had remained perfectly innocent. She was a friend to the Trueblood's the family that took him in. And she was one of the few females around who was Stefan's age and didn't shy away from the fact he was an obvious outsider. They would spend hours talking—well she did most of the talking because Stefan didn't have enough memories to contribute much to the conversation. But through her eyes he saw the world from another perspective.

And she was a beautiful woman. She had russet skin, midnight hair, and pale green eyes. When he closed his, he could hear her soft voice in his ear. When he was alone like this, it was the only time Stefan allowed himself to think of her.

Nothing could happen between them because she knew there was a woman out there who loved him. And she had been taught to honor unions. You do not interfere for any reason. So things had remained platonic between them during his stay there.

Stefan missed her but realized that part of his life was over. Bonnie had been his past, present, and if all went according to plan, she would be his future.

No other woman could make him burn from the inside out to be next to her like Bonnie. He feared he might have lost that feeling during their years of separation, yet it all came rushing back the minute he laid eyes on her. Stefan wasn't naïve about the situation, and he certainly hadn't walked into things with blinders on. He knew Bonnie had changed yet she had also remained fundamentally the same.

He was comfortable with her yet he knew there was something within Bonnie haunting her. When she didn't think he was looking, a pained expression would come over her face and she'd take a deep breath to push the sadness away. Quite a few times he wanted to question her about what was going on in that head of hers, but he knew Bonnie well enough to know she'd talk to him when she was ready.

Still he didn't like being in the dark. Stefan had his suspicions, but he wouldn't accuse her of anything until he had incontrovertible proof. For the time being, he would figure out how best to go about reinstating his marriage and prayerfully the rest would work itself out.

Salvatore men were not quitters. And he wasn't giving up. Bonnie belonged to him just as much as he belonged to her, and he would do everything in his power to remind her of that.

* * *

><p>Bonnie had forgotten just how crazy some of her patients were. Her first appointment of the day was with Peter Holbrook, a forty-five year old man with severe mother issues. Peter was convinced his mother was a terrorist and had been trying to sell his "trade secrets" on the black market for years. It took Bonnie very little time to diagnose him with having a borderline personality disorder.<p>

Following him was Kim Deepak who had been abused as a child and was having difficulty communicating with her husband who was a police officer. She suffered with acute OCD and battled with insomnia. Bonnie did the best she could by Kim because she was so very fragile, and was absolutely terrified of losing her husband because of his line of work.

Now she was on break, enjoying lunch in her office when her assistant Julie knocked on the door.

"Come in," Bonnie said.

The door opened to reveal a short Caucasian blond with blue eyes and very rosy cheeks. Her eyes resembled half moons because that's how badly Julie was cheesing. Inwardly, Bonnie rolled her chartreuse spheres. She knew whenever Julie looked like she was seconds from climaxing that meant one particular person was on the phone.

"You have Mr. Damon," she shrieked a bit before finding her composure. "Mr. Salvatore is on line one."

"Thank you, Julie."

Her assistant didn't budge. Normally whenever Bonnie thanked her, Julie took it as her cue to get missing, but the woman clearly wasn't done getting her Damon fix for the day.

"Thank _you, _Julie," Bonnie reiterated her words between slightly clenched teeth.

"Oh, right," Julie's cheeks reddened profusely and she finally picked up her swollen ankle feet and reluctantly left Bonnie's office.

Bonnie didn't pick up the receiver until her door clicked closed. She hit the appropriate button and then,

"Hi, Damon."

"Did you get the flowers?" he began without preamble, his voice intentionally low and intimate.

Bonnie cleared her throat, and was trying her best not to have the same outlandish reaction as her assistant. "Yes, I got them. I was going to call and thank you but my day got busy quickly. You didn't have to."

"I did. I was a total prick the night of Stefan's party. You didn't need my shit and well…I'm not good at apologizing. You know that about me."

Yes, she did know.

"So I wanted to make it up to you," Damon continued.

Bonnie rubbed her forehead. "That was…nice of you, Damon."

"You know what would be even nicer of me? If I took you out to dinner."

And there it was. The other shoe. "Damon, you know that's not possible. How in the world would I ever justify that to Stefan? Look, I know you know so let's not play games with each other. I'm not interested in being courted by you. I am going to remarry your brother and that's final."

There was a lengthy pause on the other end of the line. Bonnie's heart stopped beating until she heard the sounds of paper shuffling in the background.

"Is that what you really want?" his voice finally came back on the other line.

Bonnie knew she couldn't hesitate with her answer. If she did, Damon would take her hesitation and run with it to the bank.

"Yes."

Another pause. "I don't believe you, Bonnie."

She actually gawked at the phone like it had turned into a snake. "Well, I don't care if you don't believe me or not. Just stay away from me, Damon."

He chuckled then and if she didn't find the sound just a tad arousing, she'd be lying. "I recall you saying those exact words to me just moments before you jammed your tongue down my throat in your office."

"You're a sonofabitch, Damon!" Slam. Bonnie hung up the phone. She shut her eyes, felt a headache coming.

No, no, no, she did not want to think about the time Damon ambushed her in her office. Yet the thoughts assailed her anyways.

_Damon had invited her to a fundraiser his company was throwing. It was in support of research for Lupus disease. This wasn't their first public outing together but it was the first time that Damon simply went around the room to all of his colleagues and constituents and introduced Bonnie by her maiden not married name. _

_That night, in her eyes, she had been demoted from being Bonnie Salvatore to Bonnie Bennett. Bonnie Bennett was a single clinical psychologist who was making a name for herself. Bonnie Bennett was in no way, not even by marriage, related to the man whose arm she decorated. _

_Bonnie Bennett could get away with first degree murder tonight if she wanted to. The rules of matrimony no longer applied, and Damon took every opportunity he could get away with to remind her of that one fact by either holding her as close to him as physically possible, or dropping a light kiss on her cheek or temple. No one knew her here. They didn't know she had been married to Damon's brother, and they didn't ask a lot of prying questions. Once they found out she was a psychologist either they wanted scandalous details about her clients, or they lost interest completely and didn't want her to analyze them. _

_This event came just a month after the first time they kissed. Bonnie had tried her best to keep her distance from Damon, but she had gotten used to having him around that she missed him terribly. So when he called wanting to patch things up, Bonnie had tried not to appear too eager for reconciliation. They met at a neutral spot because she didn't trust to be alone with him. And the minute she laid eyes on Damon as he strutted towards her dressed in a tailored suit, Bonnie had no idea why she was trying to deny herself._

_Okay, she knew why but during that moment it didn't make sense. Things between them didn't change much. Damon agreed he wouldn't push and that if Bonnie wanted more it would have to be her move._

_She kept a tight rein on her emotions and hormones and pretended that being near him didn't affect her in the slightest. Bonnie had never been a good actress or liar, and was sure she had given away her yearning for him several times. Damon surprisingly didn't try to take advantage of it._

_So when he asked her to accompany him to the fundraising event, Bonnie agreed, attired herself in soft layers of cerulean chiffon, and mingled with people as if she were used to being in that sort of crowd._

_Damon had excused himself several times and Bonnie watched with a little bit of green-eyed envy as Damon flirted heavily with several women. Some of them appeared to be models and they were, and others had just been fortunate in the genetics department; or their beauty was the result of a superior plastic surgeon. Bonnie had sipped her champagne, tried not to feel neglected and like a petulant teenager with a crush as the night wore on._

_By the time Damon dropped her off at home, Bonnie had had a full blown attitude that she didn't even try to hide. He was confused by her behavior yet found it amusing. Jealously looked good on her, and if she were jealous because he kissed a couple of hands and cheeks that weren't hers, then that meant she was falling for him, too. _

_Bonnie had been short and rude with him. Damon took it with a grain of salt and left her to stew. _

_She didn't have a good night sleep. Bonnie spent the night tossing and turning and kicking her covers away only to drag them back up when she got too cold. Wash, rinse, repeat, the cycle continued until morning as she dragged her tired carcass into work._

_Her bad attitude extended to her clients, to her assistant, to the lady who didn't hold the elevator. All she could think about was how delicious Damon looked in his tux, and the fact he barely paid any attention to her because he had been too busy kissing everyone else's ass. _

_Bonnie didn't know what was wrong with her. She hadn't battled such conflicting, rage inducing feelings since her high school crush on Dean Winchester. _

_And that's when the startling realization hit her._

_She had a crush on Damon. Only it felt like something more than that. Almost like a possession._

_For months Damon's attention had been directed on her and her alone. Whenever she needed to talk, no matter the time, Damon made himself available. When his presence wasn't demanded in New York he was with her in Mystic Falls. If Bonnie wanted to try a new restaurant, see a movie or play, Damon was the first and only person she called to accompany her. He had spoiled her rotten. She had gotten used to him being around. And when she saw evidence of something potentially threatening that, Bonnie couldn't handle it. _

_When the day was over, Bonnie hung around the office. There was no point to rush out of the door to return to an empty house. Besides it was storming outside and Bonnie hated driving in the rain especially at night._

_But she loved watching storms though. Bonnie pulled the Venetian blinds apart, exposing the whole window. Her office was located on the twenty-second floor in a high rise building. The only light on was the Tiffany lamp which cast interesting shadows along the walls. _

_Dressed down to her ivory blouse and skirt, Bonnie stared out the window, gasping when lightning suddenly cut across the sky. She waited for the boom of thunder but the sound didn't follow. Lightning without thunder seemed more terrifying to Bonnie. She pressed just a bit closer to the glass and stared up at the sky when Bonnie got the distinct impression she was no longer alone._

"_Don't turn around."_

_Bonnie gulped. Her heart began to speed but she disobeyed the order and turned around. _

_Damon hovered in her doorway. She appraised him taking note of his dark jeans and snug black T-shirt. His skin looked as pale as the moon and his hair was as dark as night, but his eyes were electric._

"_What are you doing here?" she asked._

_Damon didn't respond. He merely slipped into her office and shut the door behind him. He turned the lock for good measure._

_And the moment he did that, Bonnie was beginning to feel oxygen deprived. She was unnerved by the way he was staring at her with such intensity. Damon had a direct gaze. If you knew him you knew that, but to be the object of scrutiny made her want to squirm in her Jessica Simpson pumps. _

_He was on top of her before she had the chance to blink. "I'm here because I'm tried of pretending I don't want you, Bonnie. And from your attitude last night, you want me, too." _

_Her breasts instantly felt heavy in her bra. Her legs became jelly while her womb tightened and pulsated. _

_Bonnie tried to take a step back but rammed into the window. She had no place to run. "Don't flatter yourself. I had too much to drink. I wasn't myself."_

_Damon snorted. "Don't blame it on the alcohol. That excuse is no longer cute past the age of twenty-three." _

"_We can't do this. We can't go there."_

_Damon boxed her in by placing his hands against the window. "Can't or won't?"_

"_Pick one," her nostrils flared and the scent of his cologne tickled her nose and made her drool. No man should smell that good._

_Damon flashed a cinematic smile and it was gone just as quickly. "Your mouth says one thing but your body is speaking another language entirely."_

"_Damon, come on. We can't do this. Have you forgotten who I'm married to?"_

_A tick began in his jaw. Damon looked away momentarily. Lightning flashed again and it turned his blue eyes into mercury. _

_When he dropped his gaze to Bonnie she felt like she had been zapped and actually jumped. She licked her lips nervously. _

"_I hate to break this to you, sweetheart," Damon dropped his voice an octave, "but Stefan is gone." _

_Anger burned within Bonnie. "And you think that just automatically makes this right between us?" She pushed Damon away, glad for the space because now she could clean the lust-filled cobwebs from her mind. "Stefan might be gone but in my heart I'm still his wife. And death doesn't stop you from being his brother. Just…just leave me alone, Damon. It would be best."_

_He studied her again. Could see the color tinting her cheeks even in her dimly lit office. Bonnie was trying so hard to be hard but Damon knew she wanted him. Her hands were trembling. It might have been a subtle movement but he saw them shaking nonetheless._

"_If I walk out that door then that means I'm cutting all ties," he warned her. "You don't want more, that's fine, but don't think I'm going to be at your every beck and call whenever the mood suits you. You can't have it both ways, Bonnie. You can't mourn my brother and give me mixed signals."_

_Her anger turned to panic before the anger resurged again. They glowered at one another and Damon turned away when her silence continued. He was being serious!_

_She couldn't let him leave. If he left who would take care of her? Who would be there for her when she had trouble sleeping? Or help her get through the really bad days when she wanted to do nothing more than lie in bed and cry? Who would she call when she wanted to get out of the house and try something adventurous? She couldn't lose Damon, too._

_Damon was more than just her brother-in-law, he was her friend, and…and he was something more than a friend._

_Bonnie didn't know what she was doing. One minute she was rooted to her spot next to the window, and the next she caught Damon by the arm, swung him around and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. _

_For his part, Damon was only a little startled by the fact Bonnie was kissing him, but it didn't take him long to gain control, and deepen it by slithering his tongue inside her mouth. They stumbled backwards, until Bonnie's back hit the window. She hooked her left leg around his as her fingers bunched the material of his shirt in her hands. _

_Damon devoured her mouth, stimulated what he was going to do to her the second he had her out of her clothes. _

_The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, as lightning now accompanied by the sounds of thunder shook the building. Bonnie and Damon were simply too horny to pay even the slightest attention to the weather outside._

_After drinking his fill of her mouth, Damon spun Bonnie around, pressing her against the window. She gasped as her skirt was ripped off and the buttons on her blouse took flight as Damon grabbed the material and pulled in opposite directions. The cool glass against her heated skin caused goose bumps to breakout across her flesh. Bonnie leaned her head back as Damon placed deep kisses along the column of her neck._

"_You don't know how bad I want you," he whispered in her ear._

_Oh, she did know because _it_ was pressing demandingly against her firm ass._

"_Show me," she breathed and tunneled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck._

_And Damon would do just that._

_Bonnie gasped when the lace cups to her bra were pulled down exposing her breasts which Damon covered with his warm hands and began to knead the globes. _

_Bonnie was turned back around to face Damon. Their lips met and amongst groans and moans of pleasure, they fell to the carpeted floor and crossed a line they could never cross back. _

In the present, Bonnie needed a change of underwear and a lobotomy. Everything about her situation with Damon was taboo. She cut him off, severed things, but what she couldn't get rid of, dispose of so easily were the memories. Even now in her semi-aroused state Bonnie felt like she was betraying Stefan. He loved her so much and didn't know the truth. It wasn't right keeping this information from him and continuing on with the lie that he was the only man she had ever known or experienced.

Bonnie sighed heavily. She was going to have to tell him.

Her next appointment was due to arrive in minutes and she needed to get her bearings under control.

She picked up the card and read it one final time.

_We'll always have March 19, 2011. The night I saw and tasted heaven. _

Bonnie tore the card in half. It was time for her to exorcise Damon from her system.

* * *

><p>Bluish-gray eyes looked over the decorated table one final time. Pink lips puckered to blow out the flame of the match once the candles were lit. Stefan had spent the rest of his day slaving over a hot stove, cooking a rich Italian meal for his…for Bonnie.<p>

He turned when he heard keys jiggling in the lock. Bonnie opened the door and closed it, and stopped the minute she saw the table in the middle of the room, her…Stefan standing next to it dressed in a navy blue Henley shirt and dark denim jeans. He moved across the room it seemed without moving and he was standing before Bonnie, reaching for her purse, attaché, and coat.

"Welcome home," he kissed her deeply, consuming her breath, making her delightfully dizzy. Stefan sat her things down, took Bonnie by the hand and led her over to the table where he pulled out the chair for her.

"Thank you," Bonnie mumbled. Heat spliced through her when Stefan's lips teased the shell of her ear. She kept her eyes on him as he walked to the opposite side of the table and sat down. "What's the special occasion?"

Stefan poured wine into their glasses. "No special occasion. You've done nothing but cater to me for weeks. Now it's my turn," he winked at her.

Bonnie lowered her gaze to her lap. On the drive home she had convinced herself that now would be the time to tell Stefan the truth. But…she couldn't ruin his romantic gesture. Maybe in the morning. Or maybe never.

Suddenly she wasn't feeling very hungry. Bonnie rose from the chair, went over to Stefan and sat down on his lap.

"I love you," Bonnie said before burying her tongue down Stefan's throat.

He was up and on his feet, cradling Bonnie about to head in the direction in the bedroom, when she pulled away.

"No, the wall."

His eyes widened and his eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead. "The wall it is," he said and thrust Bonnie up against it, redirecting his mouth to her neck and working her suit jacket off her shoulders with her blouse and bra to follow shortly thereafter.

Chapter end.

**A/N: So it seems that Stefan may have someone in his past that made an impression on him. How much that will play a factor in this story we'll have to see. And will Bonnie or Damon ever tell Stefan the truth? Or will it be revealed some other way. I got it all planned out he-he. Thank you guys for reading. Love you!**


	8. Happy Birthday Mr Salvatore

**A/N: Once again…hellloooo is anyone out there lol. I know it's been a minute since I've updated but I felt a spark and here's what we got. Enjoy. Oh, and there's no need to read the prior chapter since this is a one-shot? I guess, but it's not a continuation from the last chapter, but if you'd like to read it just to refresh your memory on what's been happening, please, by all means feel free to do so. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**New York City, NY**

Damon Salvatore hated celebrating his birthday. Not because he dreaded getting older. That wasn't the case at all. But it was just a brutal reminder that he was no closer to fulfilling the all elusive American Dream. He had no wife to go home to at night. There were no knee-high children to welcome him home after a tiring day at work with their enthusiasm. No dog to walk. At one point in his history the idea of having a family and shouldering the responsibility of being the head of the household and having so many people to look after terrified him.

So he ran. He remained a bachelor screwing his life away with random pretty girls who lost his interest the minute he busted a nut. It wasn't the playboy lifestyle he coveted. It was the freedom of having no one to answer to that he loved and didn't want to relinquish because then he'd really see how empty his life was.

Things changed during those nights he spent eating greasy Chinese straight out of the carton, parked on Bonnie's sofa and watching those horribly written movies on Lifetime. But he suffered through all that estrogen overload just for her.

He missed those days of rolling up the sleeves to his Ralph Lauren shirts, burying his hands in sudsy water, and standing next to Bonnie washing dishes like a normal person. Bonnie grounded him in ways that closing legendary deals and romancing some of the most beautiful women failed to do. She had entrenched him in the real world and for that he would always be grateful.

That's why he was dreading this particular birthday. Last year, Damon hadn't wanted to do anything big, and Bonnie honored his request. Instead, she invited him over under the pretense of eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching football. Damon had arrived at the allotted time.

However, when Bonnie threw open the door, the entire ceiling of the living room was covered with silver and black balloons, and streamers. They dined on pizza that night but instead of eating it straight out of the box or on paper plates, Bonnie broke out the good china. They drank beer from chilled mugs she had stored away in the freezer so they'd be the perfect temperature. And then, she brought out a cake she personally designed yet had baked professionally that read: Happy Birthday Damon! She didn't embarrass him by attempting to correlate the number of candles on his cake to represent his age. Instead she only lit a single candle that had been placed in the center of the cake to which Damon quickly blew out without making a wish.

For at that time all of his wishes had come true.

Well, partially.

The perfect ending to that night would have been if he and Bonnie took their relationship to the next level. Last year around this time they had not started sleeping together so the night wasn't capped off with a bottle of champagne and a handful of rubbers. Instead they danced to slow jams, cracked jokes, and then, Damon went back to his apartment with a full belly and warm memories.

In his thirty-two years that had been the single best birthday he had ever had.

Now the time to celebrate his birth had comeback around, and he wasn't much looking forward it.

Sure on paper he had a lot to be thankful for. The first being, still having life in his body to have made it another year. Second would be reuniting with his brother whom he spent the last two years thinking he was dead. Third of course still being employed in a nation with staggering unemployment. Fourth, being ridiculously good looking. Fifth, having people in his life that he could turn to and more importantly who he could trust.

Those were all fabulous reasons for Damon to be happy to live to see another day. Yet no matter how many pep talks he gave himself it did nothing to remove that boulder which landed in the center of his chest. Stefan's reappearance had vanquished the dream Damon had been trying to turn into a reality.

He woke up with a queasy stomach. Damon rolled to a sitting position, feet flat on the floor. Thrusting his hands through his obsidian hair and pushing it away from his forehead, Damon stared at the hardwood floors of his condo. The apartment was frosty but he was in no mood to turn on the heat. The shift from late fall to early winter was upon New York and he was resisting turning on the heat until the first official snowflakes fell from the sky. The cold didn't bother him. In fact he preferred it over being warm and toasty. The cold kept him awake and alert and because he hadn't been sleeping well for weeks, he needed it on top of large quantities of caffeine.

Closing his eyes to enjoy the quiet serenity of his immaculately furnished lower Manhattan apartment, Damon tried to let his mind go blank.

The blaring house phone interrupted that. He thought about ignoring it and letting the machine pick up, but because of the wonderful acoustics of his apartment, the sound of the caller's voice would only be magnified and echo throughout his space. Leaning over to the end table, he plucked the cordless off its base and held the device up to his ear.

"Salvatore," he replied brusquely.

"Good morning, Mr. Salvatore…Happy Birthday!"

It was his assistant Caroline Forbes. Out of the three assistants he's had in the last five years, Caroline had proven to be the best and most efficient. She had tough skin and learned to adapt to his oftentimes moody and standoffish personality with admirable grace and courage. Although she had a tendency to pry, and mother him, Damon took it all in stride because at the end of the day, he knew no matter what Caroline had his back and would take whatever business practice secrets she learned from him to her grave.

In his line of work it was hard finding reliable people who had integrity. Caroline was one of the good ones. Damon's only wish was that she wouldn't be so upbeat and perky all the time.

"Thank you, Caroline. I'm assuming you're calling to go over my itinerary for the day."

"I am. All of your meetings have been cancelled because Mr. Saltzman needs you to meet with a prospective client at GILT at the New York Palace Hotel."

Damon hitched a dark eyebrow in the air. "What time is the meeting?"

"At the start of happy hour. Just give the maitre d Mr. Saltzman's name when you arrive. The client is very discreet and wishes not to divulge any names until you meet officially. I'm sending all the info to your BlackBerry. Please remember to charge it and to take your car charger with you as well."

Damon rolled his eyes. Caroline always made it a point to remind him to charge his phone. This all stemmed from an incident where his phone died and he was stuck on Staten Island and missed the last ferry. Needless to say, Caroline wasn't too happy about having to accept a collect call from him to have her arrange for a car service to pick him up and tote him home.

She spoiled him from time to time indulging in his little quirks, but Caroline was firm and knew where to draw the line of what she'd be willing to do for him afterhours. He knew she wasn't his personal assistant, and sometimes she did work on-call especially if new clients were flown into town and it was Damon's turn to wine and dine them. Other than that, he kept their interactions shelved between the hours of nine to six.

"Yes, ma'am. Since I'm not needed at the office…why don't you take the rest of the day off."

"No can do. I have to start the preliminary research for the Dubai venture," Caroline practically squealed. The reason she was so excited was because she would be going with Damon to hammer out a deal with a very affluent sheik.

"That venture isn't scheduled to take off until next year, Caroline," Damon reminded her.

"I know, but I like being prepared. I've been watching the investments and portfolios of our future client very carefully. I think we can offer him a much better deal than our number one competitor."

Damon allowed a tiny smile to crease his face. "I'm sure we can. Well since it's my birthday I want you out of there way before five."

"Oh, all right. Have a good birthday, Mr. Salvatore. I'll see you in the office bright and early on Monday."

"Talk to you later," Damon hung up the phone. He thought for a moment.

Rising from the bed, and stretching, Damon padded into his bathroom. It was rare that the CEO would tell the assistant of a senior level executive to clear his schedule for the entire day to meet with a client at one of the priciest restaurants in town during happy hour. Mr. Saltzman gave all his employees a certain level of autonomy. He wasn't a micro-manager because he hired some of the best and brightest in the finance and technology world. Your career was your own to fashion and shape, so to have his authority usurped, Damon smelled a fish.

A big fish.

It was already starting. Having to fake his way through another surprise birthday party ambush. Rick was cool but he and Damon didn't have the sort of relationship he would call brotherly. Rick had been his mentor, and Damon took good notes but he was his own man at the same time. However, if Alaric Saltzman wanted to pretend Damon was his favorite employee, he'd let the man, and go about his business.

After all it was just one day, one night, twenty-four hours and then the world could forget why he was so special in the first place.

* * *

><p>"What do you think of this one?" Stefan pointed to a Harry Winston solitaire cut diamond ring on a platinum band. It was beautiful like all the other twenty-five rings Stefan had pointed out, but nothing was standing out to Bonnie.<p>

"I don't know," Bonnie whined indecisively. "It's pretty but it looks like all the other rings in this place."

"When did you become so picky?" Stefan teased and then shook his head at the jeweler who was doing her level-best not to let her irritation with Bonnie show.

It had been Stefan's idea to venture inside the jewelry store while they were out and about running last minute errands before they boarded a flight to New York. Bonnie hadn't wanted to go inside because she was perfectly happy with the ring Stefan had given her on their wedding day. But Stefan acknowledged they weren't the same couple who married four years ago so he should splurge and buy her a new ring.

Any other woman on the planet would be jumping for joy and laughing like a hyena at the prospect of going ring shopping with a much bigger budget, yet Bonnie wasn't. Being inside this store just hammered into her head the fact she was no longer Stefan's wife under Virginia law, and that they'd have to go through the matrimonial process all over again.

Stefan hadn't officially proposed—for the second time and Bonnie secretly was hoping he never would. He didn't know the truth about her involvement with Damon and when, not if, but when he found out Bonnie was sure he'd shit a cow, cuss her out, and kill his brother.

She didn't know why she was procrastinating in telling Stefan the truth. All right, that was a lie. She _did _know why she was withholding that damning piece of information. She was terrified. Bonnie didn't want to hurt Stefan, subsequently lose him, and destroy his relationship with Damon. Damon might not care, or at the very least he had given off the impression that losing his brother didn't matter to him, but it mattered to Bonnie and she didn't want to be the reason for there being bad blood between them.

Bonnie wasn't stupid. She knew Stefan would hate Damon and her for what they've done.

It was inexcusable. They ignored social protocol and did their own thing. Lived by their own rules. Followed their own desires. If it had been nothing but sex and no feelings, Stefan might be able to look past it, but that was in a perfect world. They did not live in a perfect world but the real world that with her confession alone it could spark World War III.

The burden she was carrying was beginning to affect her sleep, her eating habits, her concentration, her sex life, her professional life. That wasn't completely accurate. She and Stefan had been going at it like bunnies. She replaced talking to him, having simple conversations with bouts of intense sex. If they were too busy fucking, then they couldn't address her betrayal. Professionally—she couldn't offer her patients sound advice because Bonnie felt like _she_ needed therapy.

Not having Damon around, not being able to talk to him whenever the mood struck, and not being able to see him finally opened up her chartreuse eyes to how imbedded he had been in her life. Bonnie missed him—almost fiercely, and sometimes reached for him in the middle of the night, only for her fingers to brush over olive skin, not milk-white, and to see bluish-green eyes and not powder blue staring down at her in the mornings.

She berated herself. Called herself a two-timing slut, whore, bitch. The names, in her opinion, weren't brutal enough to describe her actions. She slept, repeatedly, with her brother-in-law even if by law they were no longer related through marriage. It didn't matter. If Bonnie confided in another soul that individual would not tell her it was okay. Did she want to hear that? Perhaps. It would ease her guilty conscience but it wouldn't erase the number of times she kissed, sucked, or fucked Damon.

However, that ache which had settled in her heart would be eased just a fraction since she and Stefan were heading to New York to surprise Damon for his birthday.

Stefan rubbed his hand up and down her arm, staring inquisitively in her eyes. "You're not into this are you?"

"I'm sorry. I just have a million other things on my mind before our flight leaves in a little while. I really think we should start making our way to the airport. We can look for rings up in New York," she tossed him a saucy smile. Hopefully he bought it, and didn't see the strain around her eyes.

Stefan kept his eyes on Bonnie making her feel naked, vulnerable, and uncomfortable. They always had a special connection where with just one look they could almost read the others thoughts. It was freaky and a little bit eerie but it had given Bonnie great comfort at one point.

Now she was afraid of Stefan seeing too much.

"All right," he caved. "We'll look some more in the Big Apple." Stefan turned to face the jeweler. "Sorry for taking up so much of your time, Kristen."

"It's no problem. I'll be here if you have a change of heart."

Stefan nodded his head, took Bonnie by the hand, and led her out of the store.

One minute they were in Mystic Falls and the next they were walking through one of the hottest nightclubs in New York. "Work Hard Play Hard" was blasting from the arena-like speakers that were hidden in the walls. The bass alone made Bonnie's heart almost go off rhythm. The heady scent of cigar smoke wafted in the air creating a fog-like cloud that hung to the inebriated partygoers. Women flitted past wearing dresses that mostly resembled lingerie as the men wore their Sunday best. Pendants and chains with rare diamonds and other precious stones swung from necks. Weave and hair extensions bounced or flowed. Some people even sipped Moet straight from the bottle or Grey Goose.

This wasn't the setting Bonnie had in mind as the venue for Damon's thirty-third birthday.

Because their flight had been delayed for almost two hours they had missed the special dinner that was held at GILT at the New York Palace Hotel. Bonnie had Googled the place online and felt extraordinarily cheated out of a glamorous eating experience. Stefan had promised to try to set up a reservation before they left, but Bonnie wasn't too sure it would happen though. The place only sat fifty-two patrons so more than likely there was a waiting list.

Stefan leaned over to yell in her ear. "He should be up in the VIP section."

"Yeah," Bonnie shouted back. "Wherever that is."

The twosome began to slither their way through the crowd. Men salaciously ran their eyes over Bonnie. She wasn't wearing something overly provocative. She had donned a simple black dress that hit her three inches above the knee; however, it had a plunging back. Stefan had to ignore the not-so-subtle brush of ass and titties against his arm and chest as he made his way past women who didn't care he had shown up with a beautiful woman on his arm.

They made it to the VIP area and gave their names to the no-nonsense bouncer who was guarding the velvet rope. After checking their ID's, the couple was allowed upstairs where another party was being held on a stage-like area that offered an aerial view of the club.

This crowd was much more subdued and for that Bonnie was thankful. The VIP lounge had its own bar and attendants. The music was still plenty loud but at least she could hear the sound of her own voice over the roar of the DJ and his turntables. Naturally scantily clad women were abundant. Of the men who were present they had at least three women of different nationalities surrounding them, flirting, smiling, and drinking booze.

As Bonnie soon discovered, the birthday boy was not immune in this regard.

A pang sliced through Bonnie yet she suppressed it and held on even more tightly to Stefan's hand. He observed the crowd trying to find a familiar face, but so far the only person he knew was Damon. He walked over to his brother who had a caramel blond perched on his lap.

"Damon! Happy Birthday, man!"

It took a moment for Damon to make the connection that the man standing in front of him was indeed Stefan. He pushed the blonde off his leg who made a noise of complaint, stood up, and embraced his brother.

Damon's eyes traveled over to Bonnie who looked pensive yet stunning. Again she had chosen to wear her hair in a simple yet elegant ponytail. Her makeup was impeccable and flawless as if she just finished shooting an editorial for _Vogue_. Unconsciously he licked his lips.

Bonnie diverted her eyes.

"I'm glad you made it," Damon said after pulling away.

"You know we wouldn't miss your birthday. Sorry we didn't get here on time for your dinner."

Damon waved his words off. "Trust me when I say you didn't miss much. It was stuffy and boring. Even I tried to sneak out."

The brothers shared a quick laugh.

Damon approached Bonnie. She couldn't deny giving him a hug. After all, it was his special day. "Bonnie," he held his arms open.

Taking a deep breath, Bonnie walked into them and tried to keep her eyes from fluttering shut. He still smelled of expensive cologne, a twinge of alcohol, and that hoochie's perfume, but in all he was still Damon.

Because her dress offered a plunging back, Damon's hands fell on exposed skin. She was so warm and soft that not-so-surprisingly he grew hard instantly.

The second Bonnie felt that poke from down under, she separated away from Damon. "Happy Birthday," she mumbled.

Stefan had been watching them like a hawk.

Damon cleared his throat and then stuffed his hands in his pockets in a lame attempt to hide his erection.

Before things could get anymore awkward, Damon's boss made his way over to the group.

"Aww Damon I wanted to give you my well wishes before I head out."

"Hey, Rick let me introduce you to my brother," Damon clapped Stefan on the shoulder. "Alaric Saltzman this is my younger brother Stefan."

The two men shook hands.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Alaric said. "I know it goes without saying that you're glad to be back home and reunited with your family."

Stefan nodded politely. "Yeah, and I didn't get the chance to thank you for letting us use your private jet. That was very generous of you, Mr. Saltzman."

"Please, call me Rick. And Damon is one of my top employees, anything I could have done to help…I was there to lend a helping hand."

Damon jumped back in to introduce Bonnie. "And this is Stefan's better half…Bonnie." Damon, if he could help it, would avoid referring to Bonnie as his brother's wife.

Bonnie extended her hand and shook Rick's. Hopefully he wouldn't remember they had met a few months ago at a function his company threw where she had been Damon's date.

"We've met before haven't we?" Rick questioned.

Bonnie's stomach began to churn uncomfortably. Yet she played it cool. "I believe so."

"At the auction my company held back in March."

Bonnie just nodded her head. Damon kept his eyes off Stefan.

Alaric smiled but it wasn't sly just a smile of having placed a name to a face he recognized. "Nice to meet you again. I won't keep you. I'm on a flight to Europe in the morning," he extended his hand to Damon once more. "Enjoy yourself, man. See you next week."

"Have a good one, Rick. Kiss Jenna on the cheek for me."

Alaric started to walk away but then doubled back. "Actually there was something I wanted to run by you, Damon. It'll only take a minute."

Happy to be able to talk shop, Damon moved beyond Stefan and Bonnie and fell in stride next to the man who signed his checks.

"I need a drink," Bonnie said and headed towards the bar. Stefan followed.

"So…you met Damon's boss before? At an auction?" Stefan questioned and flagged down the bartender.

Bonnie didn't answer until she slid on an empty barstool. Stefan stood behind her. They quickly ordered tequila.

"I did. He's a nice man, bit of a workaholic but that's to be expected."

Yeah, Stefan was sure but that wasn't what he had wanted details on. What he was mostly curious about was how Bonnie ended up attending a function that Damon's company was throwing.

"Did Damon ask you to go with him…as his date?"

Staring at her…boyfriend…pseudo-fiancé'…ex-husband? Askance Bonnie merely lifted a brow. She turned on the stool to face Stefan who had his attention rapt on her, staring at her in that nonplussed way of his. They were presented with their drinks. Stefan retrieved the shot glasses and tapping them together, he and Bonnie threw them back.

"You know that Damon and I…we got to know each other better," Bonnie forced herself not to blush. "We were there for each other, saw each other at our worst, and I guess a friendship bloomed. So as his friend, I helped him when his date bailed on him at the last second. It was a boring event but I managed to stay awake through it."

Stefan kept his eyes on her before snorting and smiling. He kissed her forehead. However, that didn't necessarily diminish the gnawing feeling that was churning in his gut. Stefan knew his brother had an uncanny ability to ruin any type of friendship he had with a woman. He bedded them, wined and dined them, but that was it. He didn't waste time making lasting connections because he knew the woman of the month wouldn't be in his life for longer than a second.

Logically Stefan knew that things remained platonic between Bonnie and Damon. They were family, but he was beginning to wonder about the conversations they had, the activities they did, how often they saw one another. Damon's professional life was hectic. Stefan typically only saw him for major holidays and that was only because his office was closed. Occasionally Damon might touchdown in Mystic Falls on a whim, stayed for the weekend, and was back to living his crazy beautiful life that Stefan didn't envy. They were so different in temperament and personality that it was amazing they were related.

That being said, on paper, Stefan knew that Bonnie wasn't the type of woman Damon would go for. Bonnie was smart, and Damon didn't like dating women who were smarter than him. She was a bit of a homebody and Damon loved being in the thick of things. Bonnie was stern, and Damon liked women who bent to his will and let him have his way.

They just weren't compatible.

Bonnie's heart was thumping painfully loud in her chest that she was slightly amazed Stefan couldn't hear it. She wasn't a liar, an omitter of facts. She detested liars, people who were dishonest for their own gain, yet here she was lying, covering up the truth like a cat hiding shit.

Confessing to Stefan that she had been sleeping with his brother in a crowded New York nightclub would not only be unintelligent on her part, but also foolish. It was Damon's birthday. Several of his co-workers were there. He didn't need this kind of negative publicity. She would have to keep her silence until she made it back on neutral ground.

"Bonnie!"

The woman in question jumped when she heard her name being shrieked across the room. She spotted Caroline Forbes rocking Vera Wang with a champagne flute clasped in her hand hastily making her way over to them.

Bonnie rose from the stool, thankful for the interruption as she embraced her old high school friend.

"You look fab-u-lous..." Caroline gushed.

"Thanks, so do you."

"Did you just get here?"

Bonnie nodded. "Stefan and I have only been here for about twenty minutes or so."

At the mention of her boss' brother's name, Caroline exchanged her champagne flute to her left hand to stick out her right to shake Stefan's hand. "Nice to see you again, Stefan. Are you guys enjoying the party? This is my brainchild," she beamed.

Figures, Bonnie thought. Back in high school Caroline had been the social director of their motley crew of friends. If she wasn't throwing a party she was attending a party. Bonnie was amazed she graduated high school sober no thanks to Caroline.

"I see you spared no expense," Stefan remarked. Not only was the alcohol imported, but the food everyone was nibbling on was prepared by the best French chef in the city.

"Of course I couldn't. Damon might be a hard ass but he's an expensive hard-ass. Nothing but the best for him," Caroline took a sip of her drink, and turned to Bonnie. "Do you mind if I borrow him for a second? There're a few people I want to introduce Stefan to."

Bonnie shook her head, once again shamefully relieved for the time away from Stefan. "Just bring him back in one piece."

Stefan threw a pleading look at Bonnie as he was literally carted away by a very determined Caroline.

Feeling awkward since there was no one loitering around the VIP area she recognized, Bonnie headed back to the bar, only to find her once unoccupied barstool was now occupied by another ridiculously beautiful woman.

Shaking her head, Bonnie had every intention of walking to the far corner to hold up the wall, but then she felt a warm hand clasp her elbow, halting her progress.

An electric spark zapped her. Slowly Bonnie pivoted in her Farragamo pumps to face her own personal demon.

His once glassy-eyed look had been replaced with unhindered determination. Like a fox hunting in the wild looking for that unsuspecting mouse, Bonnie felt she had been captured, ensnared, and was locked in the jaws of her seducer.

She gulped thickly and wondered if the temperature had been turned up a notch because she was beginning to sweat underneath her clothes. Bonnie meant to open her mouth to admonish Damon for staring at her so blatantly and filled with lust, but nothing came out.

Of course her parted lips drew Damon's attention. He licked his in anticipation, nostrils flaring a bit before returning his gaze to her half-lidded orbs.

"Dance with me."

It wasn't a question, or a petition, but a demand—command Bonnie should say. Damon held out his hand towards her, and Bonnie didn't even hesitate to take his offering. Stefan was preoccupied with Caroline and knowing her friend he would be gone for a minute or two, humoring her and feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Together Bonnie and Damon left the VIP area and got lost in the sea of bodies gyrating to the latest hits. Bonnie didn't recognize the song playing. She mostly listened to classical, neo-soul, and Motown music.

Yet Bonnie listened to the lyrics. She only listened to songs she could relate to. Working with unstable minds could leave its mark—taint—behind and Bonnie had adopted her own source of detox. Music helped push the toxins from her body, took her mind on a different plateau, massaged the tension from her muscles with nothing more than a soothing beat and a crooning voice.

_Ooh, I can't wait to get next to you_

_Ooh, I just can't leave you alone_

_Boy you got me doin' things that I would never do_

_And I can't stop the way I'm feelin' if I wanted to…_

She knew this song. It was "Only You" by Ashanti. Bonnie had played that song almost everyday right after work on her way home when it had been released. Those lyrics had spoken so clear to her it was like the artist had written that song to express how she felt about Stefan specifically.

Now things were different. It wasn't Stefan she was having a difficult time staying away from. It was Damon.

Bonnie was still sober and cognizant of her actions, and knew to keep things PG. She began to dance with Damon with a foot of space between them, but naturally she kept bumping into people or people were bumping into her, and before long she was pressed chest-to-chest, and thigh-to-thigh with Damon.

Of course he wasn't going to complain. Damon had a miniscule amount of rhythm but he knew how to work his hips and he was doing something interesting against her body that had Bonnie reacting like a college co-ed.

She braced her hands on his chest to push him away. Damon didn't even budge. He smirked down at her, toyed with placing his hand, which was already dangerously low on her back, to an even more inappropriate place.

"Damon," she warned. Her eyes darted around to make sure Stefan wasn't around, nor anyone else from the party. Not like she tried to commit any faces to memory, but one could never be too careful.

The minute Bonnie was forced into his arms, that ache in his body vanished. It felt like coming home the minute Damon touched her, smelled her perfumed skin. He couldn't lean over and kiss her like he practically wanted to do the minute she entered the VIP section. Too many eyes were on him. Not to mention his baby brother was in attendance. There wouldn't have been a clever way to explain that, Damon thought. So he quelled his instant, normal reaction anytime he saw or thought about Bonnie, and kept his hands to himself. He was in heaven right now but also hell.

She had shown up with another man, would leave this party with another man, and there'd be little Damon could do to persuade her to ditch her current bedmate for him. No one needed to tell Damon his thoughts were liable to get him tossed into hell, but he already treaded through the fires everyday he lived without Bonnie.

"I miss you," he whispered in her ear.

Bonnie wanted to reciprocate but knew it would only open a door she wouldn't be able to shut.

Damon pulled away a bit so he could examine her face. Good God alive she was beautiful. A masterpiece. Perfection. It hurt just to look at her sometimes. He held on to Bonnie just a little tighter.

Heat spread through her body, and Bonnie felt her womb clench. She made a fatal mistake by looking into his eyes, those eyes which could melt steel. Bonnie was dissolving.

"Have you missed me, Bonnie?"

Every little alarm going off in her body told her to lie, but she couldn't. Bonnie nodded. "I have…I miss you, Damon."

In his mind, a scoreboard was up and Damon was just awarded a single point. "How long are you staying in New York?"

"We're leaving day after tomorrow."

Hmm, only here for the weekend. That wasn't giving Damon much time but he was good at making impossible deals happen seemingly overnight.

"I want to see you…alone."

"Not gonna happen," Bonnie quickly shut him down.

Damon pouted. "You won't even humor me? It's my birthday weekend."

Heated orbs glowered at him. Damon wasn't deterred. "Your birthday only lasts for one day and that's today. Nice try, but no."

"Okay," Damon hunched a shoulder.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. Damon hardly ever gave up a fight so easily. She knew he was calculating something in that head of his.

"Whatever blackmail you're trying to set up, I suggest you don't. I'll convince Stefan to leave right this instant and hop on the next plane smoking to Virginia."

Now it was his turn to glower. "Bonnie, don't do this to me. I'm practically begging you for just five minutes, hell I'll take one minute if I can just…be alone with you. I want to put the past behind me but when you look…" and he took the time to leisurely look her up and down. Only he was capable of making a gaze feel like a touch. "When I see you looking like Miss Fucking Universe…what am I supposed to do?"

Bonnie's tentative smile was the wrong reaction to have. Damon didn't want to do a fist pump in victory. Bonnie liked to change her mind and change it again. Her indecisiveness drove him up the wall, but when she made a decision and was positive about it, she never reneged.

"We shouldn't, Damon. Stefan will ask questions and I don't want to lie to him."

Damon cleared his throat. He knew all about Stefan's inability to let something go that he was curious about.

"You shouldn't lie to him," Damon reluctantly agreed. "We've been lying to him enough, but I _have_ to see you."

Bonnie nibbled her lip. What was it the Good Book said about temptation? Oh, right, flee. However, if she saw him just this once then maybe she could flush Damon out of her system for good.

At least that's what she hoped would happen.

She gave in. "Okay…tomorrow. Early in the morning. Somewhere public. I'll call you."

Indulging himself, Damon kissed her cheek. He wanted Bonnie to come to his condo, but if they were going to do this, it would have to be on her terms.

"You just made this the best birthday of my life."

No pressure there, Bonnie thought. Agreeing and actually following through were two separate things. Damon really shouldn't get his hopes up because Bonnie wasn't sure she'd be able to evade Stefan long enough to make an escape.

Over Bonnie's shoulder, Damon saw Caroline and Stefan dancing. His assistant was clearly drunk, but surprisingly his brother wasn't moving like The Mummy. In the morning, or maybe after seeing Bonnie Damon told himself he'd feel bad for his part in getting her to sneak around. Right now he was just too freaking high and happy to care.

Stefan spotted them, and taking Caroline by the hand, he approached. "Your assistant is wild!" he shouted over the music.

Mock surprise erupted on Damon's face. "This librarian?" he pointed a finger at Caroline. "I'm going to order HR to do another background check on her."

Caroline laughed like a banshee. "Mr. Salvatore knows I am strictly business during operating hours…what happens after that is classified. Come on, Bonnie, lets go break in our dance shoes. Whoo-hoo!"

The Salvatore brothers stood and watched as Bonnie was toted off.

"Hey," Stefan slapped Damon in the chest with the back of his hand. "Let's get another drink."

"After you."

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Bonnie and Stefan spilled into their suite at The Plaza Hotel. Kicking off her shoes and stepping out of her dress, Bonnie pulled the elastic band out of her hair. She shivered a bit as her long hair tickled her back.<p>

Stefan admired her from the doorway as she stood dressed in sheer black lace panties. With alcohol flowing through his system, Stefan was packing heat in his pants that wanted instant relief. He walked up behind Bonnie purposely fitting his erection between the crack of her ass. He wrapped his toned arms around her waist, but then ran his hands up her torso and cupped her breasts.

Her nipples instantly pebbled against his touch. Next thing Bonnie felt was Stefan kissing her neck and breathing heavily into her ear.

"I'm horny," he said and grinned.

"I can tell."

Stefan squeezed her breasts and then slapped her ass.

"Ouch," Bonnie yelped.

Stefan released her, took a step back and began unbuckling his pants. Bonnie turned to face him.

Tonight her straight and narrow…boyfriend?…ex-husband?…husband?…hell _Stefan _drank like it was going out of style. Stefan's past with substance abuse was one of the main reasons why he never consumed anything heavier than wine and only a glass at that. When he downed hard liquor he became a different person. Brash. Mean. A real prick—those were his words to describe his unsavory behavior. He had been prone to destroying property, becoming belligerent, starting fist fights with whoever happened to be walking around. Had been arrested a few times, gone to court, did a brief stint on probation in his early twenties as a result of frequently kissing the bottle. Bonnie had never seen that side of him, thankfully, yet she knew she'd have to be very careful until Stefan sobered up.

"I want you naked and on that bed ass up and face down, Bonnie."

Bonnie couldn't deny that hearing Stefan talk vulgarly wasn't turning her on. Just a little. However, she needed to take control of the situation. "Okay…I have a better idea. Why don't you head into the shower, wash the stink of the club off your skin, and I'll order a hug pot of coffee from room service."

Bonnie made an attempt to walk around Stefan but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to face him again.

Her brows knitted together as anger flashed through Bonnie. "What are you doing? Let. Me. Go."

Stefan ignored her and pulled Bonnie closer. He gently cupped her cheeks and aimed his lips for hers but Bonnie twisted away.

"You're so beautiful. You don't know how many guys I caught staring at your ass tonight."

Bonnie continued to fight off his grip but wasn't able to. "Cut it out."

"I want to fuck you," Stefan was adamant and the pressure he had on her arms had increased. Bonnie had to find someway to break his grip or he really would hurt her.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, with all her strength, Bonnie pushed Stefan away from her. "We're not doing this. You're not going to manhandle me like an asshole. Get in the shower and while you're at it screw your head on straight."

As if suddenly realizing what he had doing, Stefan blinked.

When Bonnie attempted to walk around him this time, Stefan didn't try to stop her.

But his words did the second she picked up the phone to call room service.

"Do you love me, Bonnie?"

Slowly Bonnie lowered the phone back in its cradle. "Of course I love you."

"Then why won't you marry me?" Stefan turned to face her.

The lust that had been so prominent in his eyes had been replaced with dread and misery. Bonnie's throat instantly tightened.

"Stefan…"

"Every time I bring it up you always change the subject or you act like you have something better to do than discuss our future. Is there someone else? In the time I was gone…did you fall for someone else?"

Her heart was pounding. It was the conversation she dreaded but the conversation she knew needed to happen. Just not now. Not when Stefan was drunk and she was half-naked. Bonnie reached for her robe and quickly covered up.

She approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "We can talk about this…in the morning. You're drunk, Stefan and you probably won't remember a thing I tell you."

He grabbed a hold of her wrist and slid her hands off him. Stefan took a step back. "I feel like I'm losing you. I don't want to lose you, Bonnie."

"You're not losing me, Stefan. I'm not going anywhere."

Even as she said those words, Bonnie fully expected the ceiling to crash on her head as she was lit up by a lightning bolt. She couldn't do it. She couldn't hurt Stefan and she couldn't hurt Damon. When all was said and done, Bonnie prayed she'd at least make it out alive.

Chapter end.

**A/N: So Stefan has a dark past that I might explore in a future chapter. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to explore it! He has a dark side so we'll see if Bonnie's elusiveness in telling him the truth will make that part of him reappear, and if it does who knows what might happen in the Damon/Bonnie/Stefan saga. As always thank you so much for reading this little fic. I can't promise when the next update will occur, but you know what keeps a writer motivated…REVIEWS! Love you!**


	9. The Skeletons Come Out To Play

**A/N: Hello, kittens if you remember this story, good lol. I had this written up months ago and then kind of left it by the wayside. Things finally come to ahead in this disastrous Bonnie/Stefan/Damon triangle. I may make changes to this chapter or I may leave it as is. Thank you for picking this back up. I needed to take a break from my other stories and immerse myself in AU. The show…urgh, I think you all know how I feel about that. Here is the latest. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement intended.

For the first time in two years Stefan had a fitful sleep. Being drunk should have guaranteed he would be passed out like the dead but that wasn't the case. Behind his closed lids he was bombarded with nothing but images from his sordid past. A past it had taken him the better part of his twenties to overcome and heal from.

He saw his father, raging at him and Damon for bringing home poor grades. Saw his father threaten to slap his mother. Saw Damon and his father come to blows. Saw his mother puking up blood from the cancer that was eating her from the inside out. Saw himself handcuffed and riding in the back of police cars. Stefan broke out into a cold sweat, tossed and turned, and mumbled things incoherently in his sleep. Then he would feel a warm hand touching his arm or his cheek and the murmurings of a soft voice telling him it was okay, that he didn't have to face the darkness alone.

Stefan would never label himself as being the traditional good son. Up until he became aware of the problems in his parents marriage, and his father's rage issues, he did everything Giuseppe Salvatore dictated he do. As such, Giuseppe took Stefan under his wing with the purpose of grooming him to take over the family business one day. Unfortunately, Stefan knew at the ripe age of seven that he didn't want to be a cutthroat lawyer. He didn't want to sully his hands or name just to win a major case where he knew the person he was defending and representing was guilty as sin.

So he learned the importance of keeping his mouth shut. It was a skill that saved his hide from being tanned with a bare hand, belt, or whatever was useful that happened to be in reaching distance. Damon had not been as fortunate in the prudent department and said exactly what was on his mind, and did whatever was in his heart to do.

Stefan had respected and revered his brother and his fearlessness, and the minute Stefan hit puberty, his days as being known as the docile son were over.

Even in his dream state, Stefan could recall the first time he tasted beer. He could remember with sharp clarity of doing a line of cocaine and wondering if his brain might ooze out of his head as a result of it. He had been paranoid thinking that anytime he sat still his nose would start to bleed, exposing what he had done to his temperamental father and he'd be shipped off to military school. So he had to learn to be discreet and hide his recreational habits.

At sixteen he lost his virginity in the back of a car to a girl whose name he didn't bother to remember. It had been the most exciting but ultimately disappointing time of his life. The event had been over in less than two minutes because he had been too anxious, and he couldn't exactly say he felt like a man once it was over, but he was different, felt changed. The drugs, partying, alcohol use—abuse—continued that he barely graduated high school sober.

With two pregnancy scares under his belt, along with numerous arrests and falling out with family members and friends, he knew it was time to clean up his act. This was not the legacy his mother would have wanted him to leave. A good looking corpse that had accomplished nothing in life.

It was her death where Stefan felt he reached rock bottom. In the last years of Mary Salvatore's life, Stefan rebelled and railed against the system. Damon had been shipped off to England to boarding school because he and the principal of his private school could never quite see eye-to-eye, so Stefan sat there and watched his mother wither away until she resembled a skeleton.

The second she died, she grabbed a hold of his soul and took it with her. The lights went out. There was no one home in Stefan anymore. When Damon came back to attend her funeral and to reclaim the life he had and be the bigger brother Stefan had been in desperate need of, they did not get along. At all. Stefan hated Damon. Hated the fact he got to escape and deal with his misery in England, abandoning Stefan to deal with their asshole of a father and watch their mother die.

Damon tried to assert his authority as being the elder over Stefan and the two came into blows. So frequently that both were sporadically hospitalized with minor injuries: busted lips, bruised ribs, and egos. That had been the final straw and their grandmother—their father's mother—ordered that they spend the summer with her in Italy.

It was the trip that mended their broken relationship, solidified them as two brothers who really did love one another and wanted nothing but the best for the other. They might have lost their mother and their father's love and respect, but they had each other. And that was the lesson Isabella Salvatore wanted them to learn.

And learn it they did by waking up every morning at the ass crack of dawn to do chores around her vineyard. Picking grapes, cleaning out the stables, shoveling pig droppings, re-shoeing horses, giving tours, and tearing down an old barn on the property, that's what they did for the whole of the summer. Not going to the beach. Not joy sailing on the speed boat, not taking beautiful women to dinner.

Stefan would forever be indebted to his grandmother.

When the ten year anniversary of his mother's death came, Stefan booked himself a flight to Paris, France with the intent to photograph the memories of her passing away. And it would be the trip that changed his life significantly.

Meeting Bonnie had done more than open his eyes to how much he had been missing in the love department, but she had saved him from falling face first back into that pit of despair.

At first he didn't want to reveal to Bonnie his past, the part of him that had been vulgar, rude, mean, an asshole. He had built up this image in her head of him being a genuinely good guy, and the last thing he wanted to do was destroy it by being candid. Bonnie was the first woman he encountered who wasn't interested in what a suitor could do for her financially, and in fact his money—or rather his father's money—had been a bit of a turn off to Bonnie.

She didn't grow up with a silver spoon in her mouth. Bonnie had gone to public schools her whole life, and got her bachelor's from a state college. She might not have taken one etiquette class in her entire life, but she had natural elegance, class, and grace that the girls who migrated in his social circle had paid a fortune for someone else to teach them the basics in behaving like a lady.

And that was what he loved about her. Bonnie came with the mindset that in order to achieve anything in life you had to work for it. Nothing was going to be handed to you, even if you had the connections and income to make something instantly happen.

She grounded him in ways that going to group meetings and private therapy failed to do. Bonnie was everything to him. But he wasn't the man she married anymore.

There were still things about his time in Montana she didn't know about it. It was beginning to eat at him, and given their current matrimonial situation, Stefan couldn't tell if he was coming or going.

Turning over in bed, his arm flung out reaching for a body that wasn't there. Stefan honestly wouldn't know what he would do if he lost Bonnie one day. She was the better part of him, everything in life he personally strived to achieve.

Bonnie checked the time on her Cartier wrist watch noting she had less than twenty minutes to meet Damon at the corner bookstore. She felt like she was playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette not only with her life or his, but Stefan's as well. She blew out a breath of air, stared at her reflection and tried to convince herself she wasn't doing anything wrong. She knew plenty of people who were close to their in-laws, and her relationship with Damon could be no different.

Only it was.

Not many wives knew what their brothers-in-law looked like naked. On purpose.

Clearing her throat, Bonnie rubbed mint flavored Chapstick on her lips. She decided not to wear much more than foundation and mascara. If she put too much effort into her appearance it might give Damon the wrong idea. She certainly couldn't afford to lead him on anymore than she was right now by agreeing to meet with him.

Butterflies were zapping around in her belly and occasionally they would travel upwards and got lodged in her throat. This would be her final time seeing Damon before he inevitably returned to Mystic Falls for Thanksgiving and then again for Christmas.

Shutting out the lights in the bathroom, Bonnie reentered the suite and noticed that Stefan was still slumbering. Her heart immediately began to beat faster. He looked so young and vulnerable in his sleep. His tossing and turning and mumbling had kept her up most of the night. Bonnie yawned and then crossed over to him. Holding her long hair back so it wouldn't fall forward, Bonnie loomed over Stefan and gently kissed his cheek.

She had already written out a note telling him she was stepping out to run a few errands and to do some light shopping. Last night had not been a good night for them. Bonnie had seen a different side to Stefan. A side she was unfamiliar with and it did scare her for a tenth of a second, but she had been able to gain control of the situation before things got out of hand.

After forcing Stefan to try to sober up in the shower, Bonnie had ordered coffee and finished dressing for bed. By the time he stepped out, the tension between them was palpable. Stefan had joined her in the sitting room. They barely made eye contact with one another, neither one not sure where to start the conversation.

Stefan had drained his coffee, stretched his arms above his head and then finally looked at her. "I'm pretty wasted still so I better just hit the sack. We can talk in the morning when I'm not shit-faced."

Feeling irrationally relieved and disappointed, Bonnie didn't argue and allowed Stefan to go back into the bedroom. She was going to have to tell him the truth especially if he had every intention of following through on his word to take her ring shopping again.

Sliding her feet into her tie up boots and shrugging into her wool jacket, Bonnie grabbed her purse, and left the room.

The wind was biting making it feel far colder than it actually was. Folding her arms tightly against her chest and burrowing her face into the high collar of her jacket, Bonnie walked briskly down the street heading towards the Barnes & Noble where she told Damon to meet her.

Upon opening the heavy glass door, Bonnie was instantly slapped in the face with the smell of new books and brewing coffee. There was just something calming and relaxing about bookstores. They had become a haven for her while she was in college, and when she had the time, Bonnie would visit the local bookstore in Mystic Falls. It was small and quaint, not like this mini-supermarket like mammoth that sold everything from specialty coffees and teas, T-shirts, mugs, calendars, planners, office supplies, and greeting cards.

Bonnie took the escalator to the second floor and perused the aisles. She ended up in the graphic novel section and looked at a few titles before deciding to pick up the latest Wolverine comic. Stefan wouldn't label himself a comic book nerd, but he had a few favorites he read from time to time. She decided to purchase it for him along with the new Batman, and Thor.

Suddenly Bonnie was overwhelmed by a tingling sensation that slithered up her spine. She lifted her head and spotted the source of her unexpected awareness. Damon.

He was dressed appropriately for the weather in a tailored quarter length black wool coat, dark blue jeans, and his black biker boots. A five o'clock shadow encompassed his jaw making his sharp features even more prominent. His ink-black hair was tousled. And those electric blue eyes…they were smoldering.

Naturally heads turned as Damon wove his way through the aisles and other shoppers. The man was a show stopper. A heart killer. There had never been any denying that. Bonnie forced herself to swallow and to look away.

A smirk curled his lips as he saw Bonnie futilely try to ignore his existence. It was pretty pointless but it afforded him the opportunity to stare at her unabashedly.

Her jeans looked absolutely painted on. Her jacket hit her at the waist and was very haute couture. The three inch tie-up knee-high boots certainly made him think of being tied to a bed while she wore nothing but those boots and a smile. Clearing his throat, Damon came to stand right next to her. He stood so close that he could not only identify the brand of her perfume, but also the scent of her shampoo, and he could feel her body heat.

With the heels on Bonnie still only came a little above his shoulder. She was the epitome of doll-sized and Damon couldn't for the life of him wonder why he never really had a preference for short women. Maybe because he had a look-at-me personality and felt tall women fit that particular bill.

There was no overlooking Bonnie. He peeped the books she held in her arm. A dark eyebrow rose as he finally came to realize what section of the store they were standing in.

"I didn't know you had a fetish for comics," he remarked. "If I had known that I would have suggested we role-play. I think you would have made a damn fine Storm."

A corner of her mouth lifted, the corner Damon couldn't see yet she was sure he knew she was smiling regardless.

"They're not for me," she told him. "They're for Stefan."

Hearing his brother's name was a kick to the stomach but Damon was quick to recover. He was interested in knowing what Bonnie said to Stefan in order to shake him for a few hours, or however long Bonnie said she would be away for. Ever since his return from Montana, Stefan hadn't wanted Bonnie out of his sight for longer than necessary. He had become her perpetual shadow, not that he blamed Stefan; he totally understood where he was coming from. But Damon couldn't help but wonder if Bonnie felt suffocated at all.

"And what did you say to my brother to make it ten feet out of the hotel room?" Damon followed Bonnie as she headed towards the travel section next.

"He was asleep. I left him a note saying I was going to run some errands."

Damon nodded. Part of him had foolishly hoped Bonnie would just come clean and say she was going to hang out with him for a few hours. Wishful thinking.

Bonnie glanced at Damon. He looked over a few titles but she noticed that his hand was inching closer to hers. Bonnie went rigid the moment she felt his cool fingers graze over the back of her knuckles.

This was juvenile, Damon thought but there was no denying the spark he got in making such simple contact with Bonnie's flesh. Before he arrived, Damon had spent the rest of the night thinking of what he would wear, what they would talk about as if he were going out on his first date. He should have been ashamed of his behavior and the amount of anticipation he was feeling towards this clandestine meeting, but when you were in love you didn't care what a fool you made out of yourself. Just the thought of being with Bonnie—alone—for the first time in months, Christmas had come early for Damon, and he wanted to unwrap his present slowly.

He told himself he wouldn't touch her unless of course she made the first move. Well, apparently that went out the window. Not touching her was almost like not picking at a scab. You know you shouldn't but couldn't resist.

"So he has no idea you're with me?" Damon asked.

"No, he doesn't."

"Do you think that's smart?"

"No, I don't."

"Have you eaten anything?"

Bonnie looked up at him. She shook her head. Other than drinking lukewarm coffee, Bonnie didn't want to waste time making her escape by sitting down to enjoy a seven course breakfast.

Damon took her gently by the elbow and the two of them strolled over to the café. Their options were limited. One could buy a pastry that was high in calories, get a signature drink, a small carton of fruit that cost more than a gallon of gas, or a bagel with your choice of toppings.

Bonnie kept things simple and got an oatmeal raisin muffin and a latte. Damon ordered black coffee and a slice of blueberry cake. They sat down at a very small round table that really only seated one person. Their knees bumped into one another and though Bonnie was inclined to shift away, she remained right where she was. Damon stared at her—_hard_—from across the table.

"What did you do for the rest of the night?" she queried and took an exploratory sip of her latte.

Damon broke off a piece of his cake and held it out to Bonnie. She declined the offer. He shrugged and popped it in his mouth. "A few of my co-workers conned their way back to my place where we…played cards."

His hesitation was not lost on Bonnie. Played cards my ass, Bonnie thought. Someone had hired a stripper or strippers. Bonnie ordered herself not to have any kind of jealous reaction to that, but a pang did go through her.

"You played cards?" she asked skeptically.

Damon nodded and kept his face purposely expressionless. "Yes," he lied right through his teeth. If you considered some of his co-workers using their credit cards and taking said cards and sliding them down the ass crack of the two strippers that had been hired for entertainment, then sure they played cards.

Bonnie diplomatically changed the topic. "Did you have fun yesterday? Did you really enjoy your birthday?"

"I did. Like I told you last night, Bonnie, seeing you and having you agree to meet with me was the highlight of my night. Although I have to ask, why _did _you agree to see me? You've been adamant as hell that things are over between us and that there's nothing left for us to talk about."

That was a good question indeed and Bonnie wished she had something stronger than a latte to get her through this particular conversation. She hadn't spent too much of her time between last night and this morning analyzing her decision making skills. Damon had asked and she gave in. Sometimes it _was_ just that simple.

Bonnie stuck her thumb in her mouth to lick off the glazed topping of her muffin. Of course that drew Damon's attention.

"Maybe I agreed because I feel like there's still unfinished business between us."

Damon leaned forward until he was able to rest his elbows on the table. "There is," he agreed. "More than you know. More than I can tell you. Bonnie, I don't want to come in between you and Stefan. He's my brother. He's the only family I have left, but I have these…it wasn't all sex for me."

Bonnie dropped her eyes to the table, her heart accelerating. "It wasn't all sex for me either."

This surprised Damon immensely, so much that he dragged his chair so he could sit next to Bonnie instead of across from her. He reached for her hand, the one that was resting in her lap. He laced their fingers together and the moment just felt so right to Damon, like he was home. Essentially this felt like a date between them, and when he dated he was very hands on, touchy feely.

Bonnie had been too but she had a million reasons why that part of their relationship had to end.

Inside, Bonnie's heart was beating like an Afro-Cuban dance song. His fingers were warm, nearly scorching. Slowly Bonnie lifted her eyes to stare at Damon.

"What did it mean to you?" Damon asked.

"You were there for me when I felt like I didn't have a soul in the world. Our…being together would get us stoned in the old days, hell today, but I don't take a minute of it for granted. It meant the world to me, and in your own way, Damon, you brought me back from the brink. You had become my best friend and I feel like that friendship more than anything else is gone."

Damon wanted to blurt out if she loved him but he refrained from doing so. "It doesn't have to be."

"Damon, we can't go back to what we were doing before. This is wrong," Bonnie dropped his hand.

He sighed. Automatically bereft at the loss of contact. "I know that but do you wish things never started between us?"

Bonnie looked conflicted and uncertain. Not exactly expressions Damon was used to seeing from her.

"Honestly, I don't know. Some days my answer is yes and other days my answer is no. I just wish you weren't my husband's brother."

Ouch, Damon thought. "Stefan's not your husband anymore." That was probably the most insensitive thing he could have said to her, but it didn't make it any less true.

"You don't have to keep reminding me of that fact."

"The only thing you've hammered in my head, Bonnie was facing facts. Now that the shoe is on the other foot you don't have time for it. It's a struggle for me to wake up every morning because I know my role in your life has been reduced to almost nothing, and it kills me. I feel like I've lost you, too and I have. You can dress it up anyway you want you, but you were my girlfriend. That's how I looked at you and that's how I treated you."

His words shocked Bonnie's system. They had been very careful about not putting labels on what they had, but to hear Damon say that she was his girlfriend it only made the truth of their situation more tangible. Yes, it was time for her to stop living in denial. Damon had been her boyfriend. There, she finally took her rose-colored glasses off and saw the world in Technicolor.

The vision before her sucked.

This was bad. This was horrible on so many levels. They crossed lines and boundaries they never should have toyed with in the first place, but it was far too later in the forth quarter to take it all back. Bonnie began to sweat under her clothes.

She stammered, "I shouldn't be here."

"No," Damon deterred her by grabbing her arm the second Bonnie tried to rise from the table. He forced her to sit back down. "It's time we stopped fucking around and face some cold, hard facts. We were together. We were a couple," Damon said empathically and reached for her hand. "We cared about each other. _Very _deeply, Bonnie and there's no denying that."

There was little she could say to refute a single word that came out of his mouth. They did, still do care for one another and it had little to with being siblings through marriage. They cared for one another as a man and woman would.

"You're right," Bonnie concurred almost breathlessly. Her nose began to tingle and she felt tears line her eyes. Bonnie prided herself on not being one of those women who cried over everything, but in this situation it seemed appropriate.

"But the other cold, hard fact we need to face, Damon is that we crossed a line we _never_ should have crossed."

"I know that," Damon stared at the Formica table top. "But it happened. Just…"

"No," Bonnie held up her hand. "There's no justifying what we did. Everyday I look at Stefan I feel nothing but guilt. He's been nothing but good to me and this is how I've chosen to honor his memory when we thought he was dead? By basically jumping into a relationship with his brother," Bonnie laughed derisively.

All Damon heard was "jumping into a relationship". That meant she loved him, right? He leaned just a little closer to Bonnie unable to help his impulse to want to soak this woman into his very soul like a sponge.

Bonnie hadn't noticed just how close they were sitting next to each other until she heard some snickers coming across from them. She flashed her pea green eyes to the source of the sound and saw a pair of giggling high school girls pointing at them.

Blood rushed to her cheeks and Bonnie sat away from Damon. Confusion knitted his brows together. He was sure he had been two seconds from kissing her, and Damon had been positive that Bonnie wasn't going to stop him if he tried.

Seeing that their privacy was shot, and he was doused in the face with ice cold water, Damon cleared his throat. "We should get out of here, and do something." he suggested.

"Like what?"

Damon shrugged. "Whatever we want too. Actually Alaric's birthday is coming up. I don't have a clue on what to get him. Help a brother out?" he gave her his sexy pout and notorious puppy dog eyes.

Snorting, Bonnie figured if they focused their attention and energy on something other than their raging hormones, she might be able to get out of this unscathed and without doing something monumentally stupid.

"All right. But I should head back to the hotel soon."

"I'll get you back in one piece."

Together they left the warmth of the bookstore to brave the New York chill. Bonnie stuffed her hands in her pocket but that didn't stop Damon from slugging an arm over her shoulders. If it wasn't blistering cold outside Bonnie would have shrugged him off, but he did provide a buffer to the wind although it wasn't by much.

They traveled from boutique to boutique arguing good-naturedly on what would be an appropriate gift to give to one's boss without coming across as desperate for a promotion. In one men's store, Damon had been accosted by a group of girls who heard some Hollywood heartthrob had dipped inside to elude the paparazzi. They thought Damon was the star of some show that aired on a small television network.

"No," Bonnie heard Damon deny. "I don't play a vampire on TV. You have the wrong guy."

She chuckled as she continued to finger a few neck ties. The girls were persistent and wouldn't leave Damon alone until he agreed to take a picture with them regardless of him not being famous. He got a pass because he was so freakin' hot! Their words not hers. Although she agreed.

Of course by the time he sidled up next to her, Bonnie could see the pleased and smug look on his face. It was amazing they all could still fit inside the retail chain store considering Damon's ego was probably the size of Mars by now.

"Did you find anything?" he looked over her shoulder.

Bonnie shook her head. "Everything in this store looks like something Alaric probably already owns. We should try Things Remembered."

Damon grimaced. "That's a girly store," he protested.

Tugging him by the sleeve of his coat, Bonnie made him trail after her. "It's not. They have some really nice things for men. Card cases that you can get engraved, pens, portfolios."

"Alaric has a million pens, and leather portfolios, and don't get me started on the number of card cases I've seen him with."

"All right, so what does he like to do?"

"Other than drink imported liquor and make money?" Damon shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not that close to him."

"Does he play golf?"

Damon thought for a minute. "I'm sure he does. It's like a requirement for rich white men."

Bonnie snickered and walked around the store admiring the little knickknacks and keepsakes. Damon never let her trail off farther than two feet without touching some part of her, whether it be her arm, hand, or casually leaning into her to make a joke.

Easily they fell back into old habits. Making one another laugh, bantering back and forth, falling into the Bamon show so much that Bonnie lost track of time.

"Shit," she exclaimed when she checked the time on her watch. "I need to get back like ASAP."

Damon didn't want her to leave but he didn't want Bonnie to come under fire either. "I'll get you back but first help me pick something."

Bonnie had spotted a pen set in the shape of golf clubs that came in a miniature leather golf bag paperweight. She picked it up and showed it to Damon.

"I think this is perfect."

Damon eyed it speculatively. "That seems kind of gay."

Bonnie pursed her lips. "He's going to think it's from Caroline anyways."

"So I should let my assistant take credit for a gift she didn't pick out or buy?"

"Yes, besides her job is to make you look good for your clients while she does all the grunt work and hardly gets thanked for it. Tell me I'm lying and we can leave this little gift of joy right here in this store."

Now it was Damon's turn to purse his lips. "All right, fine. I'll get the stupid thing."

"And don't forget to get it engraved. They do that here."

Damon rolled his eyes but did as Bonnie suggested. Since there was a backlog of orders waiting to have keepsakes engraved, Damon would have to have Alaric's gift delivered at a later date.

On their way back to the hotel via private car, Bonnie looked out the window while Damon held a quick conversation with a client on his Bluetooth. She tried not to stare at him as he conducted business, but she always had a weakness for men with take charge attitudes and who spoke with an efficiency that bespoke of their prowess.

Pulling the earpiece out of his ear, Damon turned his attention back to Bonnie. He had had a wonderful morning with her and he was able to move that boulder which was lodged on his chest a fraction to the left so it was no longer crushing him to death. There was still so much ground left to cover between them, but it would have to once again be put on hold. He was returning her to his brother, her…husband, fiancé, boyfriend.

"What are you and Stefan doing tonight?"

"We don't have any specific plans. Besides Stefan and I didn't do much talking last night."

A tick hammered in Damon's jaw. Bonnie realized what her words implied and gazed at Damon across the leather seat.

"I just bet you didn't," he muttered.

"I didn't mean it that way. He wanted to talk but he was too drunk."

Damon's snapped his head back to look at her once more. He remembered what Stefan was like when there was alcohol in his system. He could get frisky and rough. "Did he hurt you?"

"No. Stefan would never hurt me." Bonnie sighed. "Damon…I'm going to tell him about us. We've talked about everything except for _that._"

Damon figured Bonnie would want to purge her system. Besides, he felt like too much time had come and gone and neither one of them confessed to Stefan of their extracurricular activities. It was time for the truth to be revealed and let the cards fall where they may.

"I should be there with you."

Shaking her head, Bonnie cast her eyes on Damon. "I'm the one who made vows to him. He should hear the news from me."

"I'm his brother," Damon argued. "We both owe him an explanation and he should hear the truth from us at the same time. When were you thinking of telling him?"

A pained smile overtook Bonnie's face. "Sometime next century," she joked badly. "He should know before the holidays although that's probably the worst time to reveal the truth. I can't keep looking him in the face everyday knowing he wants to get remarried."

Again Damon had to look away and simmer down his mounting anger and jealousy. By rights _he _should be the one to put a ring on Bonnie's finger for Christmas. He wasn't sure how much longer he could bite his tongue and not tell Bonnie the true depth of his feelings, but he would hold off for a little while longer considering she already had enough to deal with.

Telling Stefan the truth would be the hardest thing she'd ever have to do. If she wanted to handle this alone, Damon wasn't sure he could let her. He had been the instigator. He had been the one to pursue Bonnie even when society cues and even his own conscience on occasion would tell him how wrong developing feelings for her were. But he just couldn't help himself and now he ran the risk of losing the two most important people in his life due to his selfishness.

Yet he could blame Bonnie too for being so great and beautiful and for putting up with his shit when he was in a crappy mood, and being his voice of reason when they were literally tearing up the great west searching for his brother. On top of a multitude of other reasons why he couldn't let her go.

They had pulled up outside of her hotel. The car idled, and Bonnie and Damon glanced at one another.

"Why don't you and Stefan come over to my place for dinner tonight?" Damon suggested.

If she wanted to tell Stefan the truth, they needed to do it together, and if she was going to do it, now would be the time. If Bonnie waited until they returned to Mystic Falls with Damon not being there, things could go wrong. Stefan had a temper. And though Stefan never physically put his hands on a woman before, there was a first time for everything, were Damon's thoughts.

Bonnie stared at Damon wearily not sure that would be such a great idea. Especially considering she snuck out just to spend time with him, inevitably leaving Stefan in the dark once more. Lying to him.

Instead of voicing her concerns she said, "I'll run it by him. I'll see you, Damon."

The man in question jumped out of the car, walked to Bonnie's side and opened the door for her. She stepped out armed with her purse and shopping bag. She tossed Damon a smile and stepped around him not trusting herself to make any kind of physical contact.

Damon watched her enter the hotel waiting for her to look back. He smiled a little when she did.

* * *

><p>Stefan was up and on his feet and fully dressed by the time Bonnie entered the hotel suite. Her cheeks were stinging with their brief stint in the cold New York air, and she was glad Stefan had the foresight to have the fireplace going. The room was pleasantly warm, not boiling hot. Bonnie dropped her purse and bag, stripped out of her coat, and rubbed her hands together.<p>

"Cold?" Stefan asked with a smile and reached for Bonnie as soon as she was in grabbing distance.

Bonnie wrapped her arms around his torso and burrowed her head into his chest. She inhaled his scent and smiled when Stefan kissed the crown of her head.

"I am."

"You were gone for a while. I thought you might have run off to Mystic Falls without me. I wouldn't blame you because my behavior was…less than stellar last night."

Bonnie shook her head and pulled away a little to look up into his haunting bluish-gray eyes. "You don't have to apologize to me for last night. Yeah, I saw a different side to you, but I know you're not perfect."

Stefan's smile was sad. Together he and Bonnie sat down on the couch. "I owe you an explanation."

Bonnie pressed her index finger to his mouth. "No, you don't, Stefan. You shared some parts of your past with me and I know you've gone though your ups and downs with substance abuse, but I'm not holding that against you. You don't…you don't have to be this perfect person, because I…I really don't deserve it."

"What are you talking about?" he rubbed her shoulders.

"I…when you were gone…and I was in a bad place…I did things I'm not proud of."

It wasn't hard to miss the emotion straining Bonnie's voice. Stefan shifted a little on the couch and noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.

"Bonnie, talk to me, babe because you're starting to scare me."

"I scare myself. Stefan I…"

Stefan's cell phone rang interrupting Bonnie's confession. He was tempted to ignore it but he saw Damon's number flash across the screen, and picked it up.

"It's Damon," he announced before answering. "Hey, man what's up? I'm surprised you're awake after last night."

Bonnie sat tensely next to Stefan trying to hear whatever it was Damon was saying but could only make out bits and pieces. She watched as Stefan nodded.

"All right, I'll run it by her and see what she says. Talk to you later."

"What going on?" Bonnie asked despite her heart being lodged in her throat.

"Damon invited us over to his place for dinner. Do you want to go or stay in or take in the sights?"

"I'll let you decide."

"I say we go since this is our last full day here, and it'll be a while before we get the chance to hang out with Damon before the holidays. Now…back to what you were going to tell me."

"Ah," Bonnie rose from the couch and rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans. "It can wait. I got something for you."

Bonnie watched as a child-like euphoric expression erupted on Stefan's face when she showed him the comic books. She never would have thought that would be the last time he looked at her so blissfully happy.

* * *

><p><strong>Lower Manhattan<strong>

Damon had extracted three beers from the fridge and slapped them on the counter when he heard the bell to his penthouse suite apartment chime. He quickly bounded through the kitchen and living room, and threw open the door.

"Well, hello and welcome to casa de Salvatore," he wiggled his eyebrows and then accepted a bottle of champagne from his brother who rolled his eyes good-naturedly and sauntered in.

"Cute, Damon," Stefan shrugged off his coat.

Bonnie entered and threw Damon a placatory smile and avoided making any kind of contact with him. It had been a while since the last time she stepped foot in Damon's New York pad, and the last time she was here, well they didn't spend much time doing anything outside of eating and…

She switched off those thoughts and boldly looked at Damon who was trying to discreetly eye her while Stefan took in the sights.

"You look amazing," he whispered in Bonnie's ear as he helped her with her coat.

"Thanks," she mumbled in reply revealing she had worn her chocolate wrap dress that hugged her curves and showed off her shapely legs.

"This is a nice place," Stefan remarked and then sat down on a bar stool. He drew Bonnie to him and firmly placed her between his legs and wrapped his arms around her torso.

Damon observed them without flinching or narrowing his eyes. The display was completely territorial, that much was obvious, yet Damon couldn't really remember a time that Stefan was so hands on when it came to Bonnie.

Was it true that a man could sniff when another man had an interest in his woman? Damon knew women had that radar, but usually a guy was suspicious of everyone, and most of the time turned out to be wrong.

"So what's on the menu?" Stefan asked and began to nibble on Bonnie's neck.

Damon quickly averted his eyes, wondering what the hell they had been up to in the last four hours. "We're having Thai tonight. I've eaten enough Italian dishes to last me a lifetime, brother."

"I guess that means I'll be stopping to get a slice of famed New York pizza afterwards," Stefan teased. "Thai food just runs through me."

"Thank you for sharing your digestive issues with us, Stefan."

Bonnie shook her head and smiled. "Did you get spring rolls? I love spring rolls."

"I know you do," Damon winked. He was allowed at least one flirtatious wink. If he didn't then rest assured Stefan would know something was up. His brother knew he was a notorious flirt. That was part of his packaged deal. "And yes I did. I also splurged on German chocolate cheesecake just for you."

Bonnie smiled and bit her bottom lip. It was by far one of her favorite desserts.

Damon moved into the kitchen and began searching for his serving bowls.

"I'll help you. You're a disaster in the kitchen," Bonnie said and wiggled free of Stefan's grasp who pivoted on the stool to peer into the kitchen.

"I am not," Damon defended himself. "I can burn in the kitchen. Burn in the good way, I mean. If it wasn't for me, Stefan would have been skin and bones. Well, more than he already is," he turned to face his brother who flipped him off. Damon grinned.

Stefan sat and watched as Bonnie moved around Damon's kitchen as if she had been here before. Removing cutlery from the sliding drawers, _telling _Damon where he kept his seasonings instead of asking. And Damon pretty much followed Bonnie's lead.

Okay, Stefan cautioned himself. Instead of jumping to conclusions, he could rationalize this and say that Bonnie might have visited Damon a few times and grew familiar with his apartment because…

Why on earth would they spend any amount of time together and especially in New York when Mystic Falls was her home? the devil sitting on Stefan's right shoulder began to question.

His angel appeared on the left and said that they must have forged a friendship through their shared grief over his supposed death, and Damon might have invited Bonnie to stay with him or use his apartment as an escape when things became too hard for her to handle on her own.

That sounded plausible. But…

Stefan thought back to all of his prior girlfriends and the ones he allowed to meet Damon. Almost all of them had exhibited some attraction to his older brother, which Stefan knew was inevitable. A few even tried to hook up with both of them simultaneously, but Bonnie had been different. She had been that one in a million, the one who only looked at Damon like a brother and nothing more.

Yet as he listened to their banter this was the most interacting to date Stefan had seem them do since before his return. Something was different.

On the one hand he could be happy that his wife, girlfriend, fiancé was getting along with Damon who was not an easy person to get to know. However, he didn't want them to be _too _close that mixed signals began to forge and get in the way.

Stefan had plans for Bonnie and their future.

"Everything is ready," Bonnie announced and grabbed one of the serving bowls and headed over to the table in the dining area that had a view of the New York skyline.

The three of them sat down. The two brothers sat at the heads of the table with Bonnie in the middle. Damon popped open the cork of the champagne and conversations resumed. They talked about politics, the weather, countries they wanted to visit.

Stefan wiped his mouth and then slapped his napkin on the table. "My compliments to the chef."

"I'll be sure to pass that along to Han the next time I step foot in Thai-Pei," Damon winked.

Bonnie looked at the brothers wishing she could freeze this moment, where things were calm and easy going between all of them. This almost reminded her of old times.

Stefan reached for her hand, and again Damon had to temper himself not to go off and order Stefan to stop touching her!

"Hi," Stefan said towards Bonnie and played with her fingers.

She smiled shyly, "Hi."

"I didn't really want to do this here, but I figured why not," Stefan admitted with a sheepish grin. "I'm with the two most important people in my life, and I'm in the city that never sleeps with the woman I love. This is the perfect time."

Bonnie's eyebrows compressed together in confusion and worry. "What the?"

"While you were out I ran a little errand myself."

There was dead silence as Stefan reached into his back pocket and retrieved a Neil Lang diamond ring.

Bonnie felt her bones turn into liquid right before her heart stopped beating.

Damon gripped his fork so tightly in his hand he was sure he either warped the shape of it or snapped it in two.

Stefan rose from the chair before getting down on bended knee.

He cleared his throat. "Bonnie…you have been my best friend—,"

"Stefan, I can't," Bonnie hopped out of her seat like it caught on fire. Stefan stared up at her in wild confusion, and Damon was literally a sitting duck at the table.

"I can't let you do this," Bonnie continued as she began to pace a little refusing to meet Stefan's eyes. "I'm not the woman you fell in love with six years ago. You can't ask me to marry you again because you don't know the truth."

Stefan slowly stood to his feet. If he was about to be rejected he wasn't going to do so on his knees. A vein popped out on his temple as he licked his lips waiting to hear utter bullshit.

"What truth? You've been talking to me in circles for a while, Bonnie. What happened? What aren't you telling me?"

Damon chose that precise moment to get to his feet and stand a little beside Bonnie.

"When you were gone, when I thought you were dead," Bonnie amended, "I died right along with you, Stefan, and finding out you were alive was one of the happiest days of my life, but it was also filled with dread. I've never lied to you about anything, but I've been lying to you. I did something unforgiveable." A tear rolled down Bonnie's cheek.

Stefan's stomach twisted in uncomfortable knots. His fear was being materialized.

Bonnie hiccupped. "I-I-I was involved with someone right up until the day I found out about you, and I care very much about this person, and things happened…"

"Who?" Stefan voice was low and gravelly. A dead look came into his eyes.

"Me," Damon said.

Bonnie snapped her head to look at him. Stefan did the same but solar flares erupted from his eyes. Stefan's right hand instinctively balled into a fist.

"Excuse me? What?" Stefan uttered in disbelief. He laughed humorlessly. "You're shitting me right?" he waited for them to deny it but his question was met with silence.

Everything in Stefan shut down or more appropriately—off.

Damon stepped between Stefan and Bonnie. He didn't look smug, only relieved and disheartened that the truth was out. "I was there for Bonnie. We were there for each other and feelings grew between us and we acted on them…"

Damon did not get to finish his explanation. Stefan reared his fist back and threw it. The blow connected with Damon's jaw who skittered sideways with a dazed look on his face. He didn't immediately fall to the ground which only served to piss Stefan off even more, so he threw another one until finally he had knocked that bastard down on his ass.

Bonnie screamed for Stefan to stop and even tried to intervene which earned her getting shoved out of the way. She lost her balance and landed on the floor, but she didn't stay down.

She watched in horror as Stefan literally climbed on top of Damon pinning him down with his legs as he punched Damon's head left to right to left again. Blood flew in the air, painting Stefan's fist, the floor, the wall. Damon took his beating for a while, before he blocked one of Stefan's punches, and upper cut his own brother, which sent Stefan falling backwards on the hardwood floor.

"Fuck you!"

"Go to hell!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Take your sorry and shove it up your ass!"

Was some of the commentary Bonnie had been able to make out amongst the grunts, snarls, and animalistic growling coming from both Salvatore's.

Things were a blur of movement as Damon and Stefan literally wiped the floor, the dining room table, and the living room with one another. Dishes were broken, chairs over turned.

The fight was evenly matched and neither one appeared to be giving or getting an inch.

Bonnie was sure that one of Damon's neighbors might have phoned the police, but then she remember that he had had soundproof walls installed.

"Gotdamnit it stop the both of you!" Bonnie screamed as loudly as she could, picked up the empty bottle of champagne and threw it against the wall.

That stopped the fighting long enough for Stefan to kick Damon away from him as he got to his feet, swayed, and hobbled over to Bonnie.

With the fighting stopped Bonnie could assess the damage that was done. Both of them had bleeding lips, cuts, disheveled hair, black eyes, and ripped shirts.

Bonnie took a step away from Stefan not liking that feral look to his eyes. "You're right. We can't get married because I don't marry _whores_."

His words were a punch to her chest where her heart was promptly extracted. Her chin quivered but Bonnie couldn't say anything in her defense. She deserved that and much worse.

Stefan shook his head, turned, and headed towards the door. He grabbed his jacket, and then glared at Damon.

"We're not brothers anymore. I hope you fuckin' die. Both of you. I don't ever want to see either you again," Stefan's voice cracked.

With those words, Stefan opened the door and slammed it shut on his way out.

Damon wiped his bleeding nose with the back of his hand as he made his way over to Bonnie.

"Hey," he reached for her, but Bonnie side stepped him and tripped over broken dishes. Damon caught her before she fell to the floor.

Bonnie sobbed uncontrollably and there was nothing Damon could do.

Chapter end.

**A/N: This last scene was a pain to write. I might elaborate on the fight scene or just leave things as they are. We've seen those two battle it out plenty of times so I think you all can imagine what they can do to each other, but I just like being as descriptive as possible. I also didn't want to add too much dialogue because things can kind of tip over into the melodrama arena, and I'm trying to avoid that. And also drawing any Elena parallels, certainly not my intent to turn Bonnie into that indecisive Mary-Sue. Not a hundred percent satisfied with this (but I'm rarely am). Nevertheless, we can focus on the aftermath of all of this. Is this the beginning of the end for Bamon/Stefonnie or merely the beginning? Thank you for reading guys. Love you!**


	10. The Way We Used To Be

**A/N: Hello Kittens. So I'm back with an update. Last chapter was a doozie. This one…well just see for yourselves. And before I go I want to wish all of you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Thanksgiving 2008**

The mood was set to launch their first Thanksgiving campaign. Nothing they would be dining on was preordered or precooked beforehand, but had been prepared from scratch or as close to scratch as one could get. The spread would surely be enough to accompany the ten guests expected to arrive within the next hour, sending everyone home with a stuffed belly and fond memories. Stefan had ordered Beluga caviar to which Bonnie shook her head. No one she knew ate caviar so she imagined the black fish eggs sitting in a crystal dish would remain untouched, and be disregarded to the doldrums of Dumpsterville later on.

Standing beside the laid out table attired in vintage Chanel, Bonnie blew out the match after lighting the last votive candle. Waterford crystal flutes glistened in the muted light of the room waiting to be filled with finely and perfectly aged chardonnay or Dom Perignon. Her eyes took a tour around the decorated living room. Garland and holly berries hung from every possible surface, while blood-red poinsettias flanked the stone fireplace. In the background, the soulful voice of Nat King Cole played accompanied with the smells of sweet potato pie warming in the oven.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught Bonnie's attention. She turned to see Stefan approaching with the newly polished silverware. Most of what they would be eating off came via their wedding china that had basically been collecting dust since they said their nuptials.

Bonnie barely glanced at that because she was too preoccupied ogling her husband of exactly one year. He was wearing a plaid Nautica shirt with a cranberry tie underneath a navy blue Polo sweater that he paired with his thigh hugging dark blue jeans and Hugo Boss dress shoes. An instant smile burst on her face as Bonnie worked her eyes back up his body before landing on that perfectly chiseled-in-all-the-right-places face of his. His caramel hair was of course styled, the tips reaching towards the sky.

"Silverware is polished as ordered," he said and began to go around the table dropping forks, knives, and spoons next to the plates.

"It only took you half a century to do it," Bonne admonished playfully. Stefan shot her a somewhat irritated look. "I need to get back to the kitchen and try to make my Grams banana pudding."

"Where is she spending Thanksgiving by the way?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes but couldn't exactly keep a smile from forming on her face. "She's gone off to Bermuda with her main squeeze."

"Oh right, Grams getting her groove back," Stefan teased. "What's his name again?"

"DeWayne Wayne," Bonnie made a face. "I don't think his parents had one creative bone in their body."

Once the last piece of silverware was laid out, Stefan approached his beautiful wife, drawing her close, and wrapping his arms around her tiny waist. He kissed her being mindful not to mess up her painted lips that were in a devastating shade of berry to match the vermillion color of her knee-length dress. Her chocolate hair fell in tiered layers of tight spiral curls that surrounded her heart-shaped face like a halo. Her green eyes nearly looked hazel due in part to the dark eyeshadow coating her lids.

"I don't think I told you how erection inducing beautiful you look tonight," Stefan intoned and aimed his lips for Bonnie's neck.

She giggled and held on to Stefan tighter completely forgetting there were still about a dozen things left to do and not much time to do them. Instead she allowed her husband to slowly stroke the coals in her oven until they were smoldering, then burning the second his tongue entered the party and began to draw designs against her flesh.

"Hmmm," she moaned, "I still have things to do, Stef…"

"So do I," he replied and slid his greedy hands down her back and cupped her ass.

"Nope," Bonnie wrestled away from her husband's insatiable embrace who of course wasn't happy. Wagging her finger at him, Bonnie retreated to the kitchen.

Everything was already laid out on the granite countertop to make her grandmother's world famous banana and graham cracker pudding. Of course she wasn't left to her own devices for a minute before Stefan slithered behind her, but this time it was to tie her apron on.

Bonnie went about dumping the appropriate ingredients into a large mixing bowl, ignoring the fact Stefan was taking liberties by nibbling on her ear.

One would think since they had been together for the last three years that he might be a little tired of her, but nope. Everything seemed to work the opposite way with them. As each day passed it seemed their love grew more intense, never waning. Stefan was just as obsessed with Bonnie as he was when they first started dating. When they were courting, he gave her space, didn't come on too strong or tried to smother her or monopolize her time. But whenever they were together, best believe he couldn't let more than ten minutes past without touching her.

It took some getting used to on Bonnie's end. She wasn't used to being showered with affection or praise. Growing up with her cold and detached father, Bonnie had gotten used to being ignored by the male species. When Stefan came along he opened her eyes up to a world she didn't know she had been missing out on. Bonnie didn't think guys like Stefan actually existed. She had watched her fair share of chick flicks where men pursued women almost to the ends of the earth, loved hard and consistently, but she never would have imagined she would be one of those few women lucky enough to experience it in real life.

When Bonnie questioned Stefan on his ardent love, he explained it simply: I'm Italian. Italians prided themselves on loving the hardest. Of course the French thought they had the patent on being romantic wooers and lovers, but Italian men were in a class all on their own. Stefan said he wanted to give Bonnie the world. Make all of her deep fantasies and dreams a reality, and so far he was keeping his word.

She cleared her throat when Stefan's naughty little hands began to palm her breasts. Bonnie definitely felt some activity taking place below his belt.

Her skin was heating up and she wanted to tell him to stop, but her thermometer on her pressure cooker was rising.

Stefan knew he should leave Bonnie alone, let her finish preparing yet another dessert for everyone to gorge themselves on, but he just couldn't help himself. With her looking and smelling like a vixen, and the fact this woman standing before him was his wife, and he would be spending the next seventy or however many years with her…he really wanted to tip God big time.

"I should stop," he whispered in her ear and then kissed her cheek.

Bonnie sighed and added a dash of cinnamon to the mixture, "You should but I doubt you're going to."

"We have time for a quickie."

"No we really don't."

"I beg to differ. Fifteen…ten…ten minutes is all I need."

Bonnie shook her head. She knew Stefan. Ten minutes would only serve to make them both mad like someone leaving a drop of juice in the jug when you're already thirsty as hell.

He growled, took Bonnie by the chin, drawing her lips closer and taking the plunge.

And just as they were getting into it, the door bell rang.

Stefan wanted to ignore it but broke the kiss, reluctantly, and ran the pad of his thumb over his lips trying in vain to remove Bonnie's lipstick. He also had to adjust himself in his pants to which Bonnie shook her head and bumped him out of the way with her hip.

"I'll get it. Make yourself useful and keep mixing, and while you're at it tame that dog in your pants."

Stefan smacked her bottom and winked.

Marching over to the door and wiping her hands on her apron, Bonnie checked her appearance in the mirror that hung next to the coat rack. Stefan hadn't done too much damage to her mouth.

She tossed open the door with a wide and welcoming smile. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

It was Tyler Lockwood and his girlfriend Vickie Donovan.

Vickie stepped into the foyer and air kissed Bonnie's cheek before giving her a hug. "Happy Thanksgiving, and don't you look fierce."

"I try," Bonnie said. She and Vickie had gone to high school together but never ran in the same circle. Tyler had met Stefan when a few years prior to Bonnie in Hawaii when Tyler was stationed there in the Navy.

"Hey babe," Tyler said and drew Bonnie into a bear hug.

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep your paws off my woman," Stefan stepped into the foyer, hugging Vickie and taking her coat, while giving Tyler a firm handshake.

Vickie and Bonnie had disappeared off to the kitchen to crack open a bottle of wine and get the festivities started.

After their arrival the rest of their invited guests began to trickle in, in pairs: Jeremy Gilbert with his girlfriend Anna, her last name escaped Bonnie, Matt and Elena, her cousin Lucy and her new beau Jonas Martin.

"Leave it to Damon to be the drama queen he is and be the last to arrive. I'm getting hungry," Tyler complained.

"Help yourself to some appetizers. That's what they're there for," Bonnie advised while carrying a tray of finger food to the table set up for light snacking.

The doorbell rang and Stefan went to go open it revealing none other than the devil himself and of course he wasn't alone. If there was one thing Stefan knew about his brother, he knew his brother never went stag to any event.

Naturally the woman clinging to Damon's arm was beautiful but her face was familiar like Stefan may have seen her on television. Damon typically dated models and aspiring actresses, and occasionally a law enforcement agent mainly to get out of a speeding ticket. Nevertheless, he shook his brother's hand drawing him in for a one armed embraced, before shaking hands with Damon's plus one.

Damon presented his brother with a chilled bottle of Cristal. "Happy Thanksgiving, little brother. Let me introduce you to my lovely date," Damon draped an arm around the woman's shoulder, "This is Channel 6 anchorwoman Andie Starr."

Stefan snapped his fingers together. "I knew I recognized your face. Nice to meet you, Andie."

Andie smiled, more like beamed. "Pleasure to meet you, too, Stefan. You have a beautiful home."

"Thanks, but I can't take all the credit. That woman right there is responsible for whipping this place into shape."

The couple leaned a little around Stefan to peer into the living room where they saw Bonnie as the veritable belle of the ball holding court and laughing boisterously.

Bonnie turned her attention to the foyer and matched eyes with her brother-in-law. Excusing herself from the group of revelers, Bonnie approached.

"I'm glad you could make it," Bonnie said and hugged Damon briefly knowing he wasn't very big on public displays of affection.

"You know me, Bons I have to make an appearance at least twice a year so no one thinks I'm dead," Damon joked and ran appreciative eyes over her. "You look beautiful as always."

Bonnie inclined her head. "Charmer." Damon of course was decked out in all black. She turned her gaze to the woman standing beside him. Recognition hit and Bonnie's eyes enlarged. "Andie Starr…oh my God I watch you almost everyday. On TV I mean."

The two women shook hands and traded compliments on their holiday attire. Taking Stefan by the hand, Bonnie led the way into the living room where several people were helping themselves to cheese, wine, various breads, small bite-sized quiches, meatballs, and sliced fruit.

With everyone there mixing and mingling, Stefan called a close to cocktail hour and assembled everyone at the table, he and Bonnie sitting at opposite ends.

"I just want to thank everyone again for coming and sharing Thanksgiving with me and Bonnie, our first as a married couple."

Several people clapped, a few whistled, Bonnie blushed.

"I don't believe in making boring speeches or anything, but maybe we should all go around the table and say one thing we're thankful for. It was something we used to do in the Salvatore house years ago," Stefan locked eyes with his brother.

Damon didn't say a word. The Salvatore holidays were anything but traditional or typical, and had been his favorite time of year. When things were good between their parents—that is.

"I'll go first," Stefan volunteered. "I'm thankful that I get to wake up next to the _hottest_ clinical psychologist this side of the Mississippi."

Whoo-hoo went up in the air.

Bonnie felt the baton had been passed to her. "And I'm thankful for several things: my loving husband, my workaholic brother-in-law." Damon held up his glass. "Good friends, supportive family, and a flourishing business."

"Well," Damon said, "I'm thankful for of course my slightly neurotic brother who has given me a smart and stunning sis-in-law. But I'm also thankful for friends, new acquaintances, and a limitless future."

In all everyone was thankful for having life, health, money, friends, family, smartphones, and being able to see another year.

Once the formalities were out of the way, dishes were passed around, devoured like vultures spotting road kill. They dined on traditional staples such as turkey, ham, and stuffing, but naturally there were several pasta dishes, roast beef, mac and cheese, yams, and greens. Whatever your particular palate was it had been catered to.

Pushing away his empty plate, Stefan dropped his hands on his slightly protruding stomach giving his compliments to the chef although he did assist in cooking. He rallied the guys to his man cave to watch the Cowboys play the Redskins leaving the womenfolk to clean up the mess.

Because it was nearing winter it had gotten dark around five-thirty. Once the table was cleared, the dishes washed and stored away, the women filed into the living room ready to dive into dessert and also play some Wii since they were being ignored by their men.

"This is the part of Thanksgiving I can't stand," Elena complained as she glared at her wrinkled fingertips. Her manicure was basically ruined thanks to scrubbing dishes for the better part of the afternoon. "Us women slave away in the kitchen and as soon as dinner is over the men get scarce like roaches leaving us the wonderful task of cleaning up after them."

Bonnie stared at Elena. "Since when did you slave away at anything? Now is not the time to front, Elena, because I'm pretty sure that apple pie you tried to sneak in here is store bought."

Elena didn't even try to hide her shame. "It's the thought that counts and at least I didn't come empty handed," and she shot Anna a dirty look. Needless to say Elena thought her brother could do much better but she learned a long time ago not to meddle in his personal affairs. Anna was sweet but a bit on the ditzy side.

Vickie and Bonnie traded looks but otherwise said nothing.

A raucous from the den caught the women's attention. Either someone fumbled a pass or the opposing team scored a touchdown. It was kind of hard to tell which.

"We really should bust up their party," Vickie suggested. "This is a holiday meant to bring people together not separate them according to sex." It was so rare spending time with Tyler because he moved around a lot that the holidays was really all they had, and the fact he wanted to spend it shouting at a television was beginning to prick her nerves.

Nibbling her bottom lip, Bonnie thought Vickie had a point. "Okay, it's time to turn this into a house party. Vickie can you get the rest of the wine out of the kitchen, Anna can you help her? Lucy, find some music to blast. Remaining ladies, lets move this furniture out of the way so we can have room to dance."

Everyone broke off to do their various assignments. Thirty minutes later, all of the furniture had been pushed to the outer edges of the room, several wine bottles were uncorked, and "Drop it Low" by Ester Dean featuring Chris Brown blasted from the speakers.

It may have taken at least two full minutes into the song for the guys to come slinking out the den to the sight of partially inebriated shoeless women dancing around.

Holding a flute of champagne in her hands, Bonnie was swirling her hips against Elena's back, arms lifted in the air.

Folding his arms over his chest, Stefan observed his wife as she literally got loose and dropped it low just as the song dictated.

For a second the guys just stood around clearly unsure of what to do. Should they grab a girl and go to work or merely watch the scene unfold.

"What are we waiting for, gentlemen?" Jonas Martin declared. "The second coming?" he sauntered over to Lucy and the two of them got lost in each other.

Damon and Stefan looked at one another, shrugged their brawny shoulders, and pulled their leading ladies towards them.

One dance dissolved into another as people exchanged partners sometimes frequently and other times infrequently. Bonnie found herself in an interesting position sandwiched between her brother-in-law and her husband, her back to Stefan's chest while Damon did his best to pop his booty but it just wasn't working in his favor. Laughing riotously, Bonnie shook her head.

"I know exactly what I'm getting you for Christmas, Damon," Bonnie said over his shoulder.

The dark-haired Salvatore turned around and looked down at her. "What?"

"Some rhythm."

Stefan reared his head back and laughed. Damon glowered at them both before shuffling his way over to Andie who was taking a breather at the dessert table.

Taking Bonnie by the shoulders, Stefan turned her around and she gulped because the look in his eyes was dangerous and the kind that spelled the imminent disaster of her clothes being ripped in strategic places. He had been on his best behavior since their guests had arrived yet Bonnie figured she denied him some affection long enough.

"Follow me," she whispered in his ear, took him by the hand and led him upstairs. Once they were lost behind the closed door of their bedroom, they didn't get very far. Bonnie shimmied her panties down while Stefan lowered his zipper. He picked her up; she straddled his waist, and then slowly impaled herself on his hardened shaft.

They didn't return for close to an hour.

When they did, Stefan was stuffing his shirt back into his pants, while Bonnie twisted her bra back into place. The party was still in full swing but everyone had taken up with their significant other, murmuring softly to one another.

After the workout she and Stefan just completed, Bonnie headed into the kitchen and rummaged around in the freezer looking for the red velvet ice cream she purchased from a whole foods store. She glanced up when someone joined her.

"What?" Bonnie asked her brother-in-law because he was staring at her but he wasn't saying anything. It didn't take long for Bonnie to begin to feel self-conscious. More than likely Damon had figured out what she and Stefan had been doing upstairs not five minutes ago.

Damon finished off the drop of wine that was in his goblet before sitting it on the center island. "Oh, nothing. Just that you and that deviant brother of mine were missing for an awfully long time," he hinted with a little smirk on his face.

Walking over to the pantry, Bonnie pulled out a box of chocolate waffle cones. "You're point," Bonnie finally responded hoping her cheeks weren't burning too badly. She was no prude by any measure of the word, but she wasn't one to divulge or gloat about her active sex life especially not to those she was related to by marriage.

Damon knew he was making her uncomfortable and found it cute. Having been privy to Stefan's nefarious lifestyle before he decided to settle down and get married, Damon did wonder if Bonnie felt at all overwhelmed. Salvatore men by their very nature were ravenous when it came to pleasure. Damon couldn't function properly if he didn't have at three to five sexual encounters every week. Stefan was no different. Don't let the baby face fool you dude was a certifiable nympho.

"My point being, taking off in the middle of a party just to get in some cuddle time…glad to see things are still going strong for you guys."

Bonnie began to scoop the decadently red ice cream into a chocolate cone. "Well, I'm glad to have your seal of approval, Damon. That has improved my life by leaps and bounds," she retorted sassily to which Damon chortled. "Would you like one?" Bonnie gestured towards the ice cream.

Damon hunched a shoulder. He didn't particularly like ice cream unless he was eating it off of someone.

He accepted the cold treat, his fingers overlapping with Bonnie's. Their eyes met for a second before Bonnie diverted her attention. It never escaped Bonnie how good-looking Damon was that sometime's he didn't seem real. She often got the feeling of being blindsided by a Mac truck when near him as she did with Stefan. They were brothers yet physically they looked nothing alike, but the one thing they seemed to have in common was the fact they were sexy human beings who could tempt a nun.

"All joking aside, how is married life?"

"It's good. Have you thought about settling down, planting some roots?"

Damon looked appalled for a moment. "God, no. I love my freedom just fine. I don't know. The idea of being stuck with just _one _person for all of eternity just seems…stifling. I like variety."

Bonnie smiled. "So I noticed. Just how did you and Andie meet? Nope, _when _did you meet?"

Damon had to give Bonnie credit. She was beginning to learn his behavior. "Andie and I go way back to like last Tuesday," he wiggled his eyebrows. "She was up in my neck of the woods covering some story or another about a French dignitary. We met through a mutual colleague."

"Hmm, she seems nice. Smart," Bonnie emphasized.

"That she is," Damon agreed. "So who knows where this might go."

Bonnie had an idea but refrained from commenting.

"Thank you for this," Damon held up the cone and took a tentative lick.

"You're welcome," Bonnie replied and then scurried out of the kitchen. She found Stefan sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, having an animated conversation with Matt about the game they just watched. She made herself more than at home on his lap.

Time dwindled on and people began to yawn as lids began to droop. Jeremy and Anna were the first to call it a night and then it started a chain reaction where people put on coats and scarves, made to-go plates, and thanked their hosts profusely.

Andie and Bonnie shared a quick conversation as the Salvatore brothers talked shop for a minute. Bonnie gave Damon one last departing hug and told him not to be a stranger, and that she hoped to see him before Christmas. He had promised to do his best.

Alone in a nice silent house, Stefan scooped Bonnie up in his arms and climbed the stairs to their bedroom.

"We still have a mess to clean up downstairs," Bonnie protested as Stefan busied himself with pulling down her zipper.

He fused his mouth with hers. "It can wait. Let's make a baby."

And so they did almost until the sun came up.

**Present time…**

The apartment was dark. Bonnie lay on the king-sized bed, curled into a fetal position with a wash cloth draped over her eyes. A dull pound thumped in her skull, and her hysterical crying had subsided to hiccups. Damon had given her half a Valium to calm her down and it was finally working.

Sleeves rolled up, blood cleaned off his face Damon walked into his bedroom and stared at Bonnie for a moment. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he had been rolling around on his floor, an expensive ass floor with his brother having a bare knuckle brawl. It had been a decade plus some change since the last time the two of them got into a physical altercation. If their grandmother were still alive she'd probably make them clean out the pig pen, but that would have been after taking a strap to their lily-white hides.

Nevertheless the cat was out of the literal bag. He wasn't sure how to handle this situation because it was delicate. It went without saying that he didn't want to lose his brother. He and Stefan had been on the outs with each other before. That was nothing new, but it had _never _been over a woman unless you counted their mother. There was part of him that was relieved he'd no longer have to lie to Stefan, but the other part of him mourned the loss of their brotherhood. They were all they had left, and to lose Stefan would mean to lose everything, but Stefan wasn't the only person he stood to lose.

Bonnie was caught in the middle—the absolute worst position to be in. Whatever decision she made would hurt one or both of them. Yet if he wanted a relationship with her then that meant giving up his brother; if he wanted to fix his relationship with Stefan that meant giving up Bonnie. Damon couldn't do either one.

Sighing, he climbed into bed beside Bonnie, spooning her. He watched the subtle rise and fall of her shoulder. Very tenderly he began to rub her arm. His fingers moved to push her hair off her shoulder.

Bonnie twisted a little and pulled the cloth from her eyes. They fluttered open and smashed into Damon's probing gaze. Even in the semi-darkness of his bedroom, his eyes sparkled like jewels in the sun.

"How do you feel?" he asked softly.

Her chin quivered, but Bonnie held on tightly to the reins and managed to keep her tears at bay. "The same," she breathed. "Horrible. I knew this would happen. I knew and I still…" she couldn't finish her thought as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

"This isn't all your fault, Bonnie. I know my brother. Better than anyone. Yes, he's hurt and pissed off, but…when he calms down and let us explain the situation, he'll see that things between us didn't happen overnight."

Her throat burned like coals and it was tough to swallow. "Did you not hear what he said, Damon? He wished death…on us both. Stefan doesn't want to hear what we have to say and I don't blame him. If the situation were reversed I probably would have knifed him. He's never going to forgive me for this. It's over between us."

Damon took in her words before saying, "Do you want it to be?"

"I honestly…I don't know. He's been such a big part of my life…but so have you," Bonnie sat up in bed. She wasn't ready to have this conversation with Damon, knowing what he was secretly asking her. There was no way she could just transition from one brother to the other knowing how much it would devastate Stefan. He deserved better. Fuck, he deserved her loyalty and she pretty much flushed it all down the toilet because her ass was lonely and depressed and Damon just happened to be there.

As much as she was trying not to point fingers at anyone but herself, she couldn't help but resent Damon a little. Stefan was _his_ brother yet that didn't necessarily stop him from pursuing her, and she made it so easy to get caught.

Bonnie didn't want to give credence to the accusation she was sure Stefan would hurl at her, that she had always harbored some kind of attraction to Damon. Bonnie didn't think so. She admired him because he was driven, and yes he was attractive, but he had been her brother and once he fell into that category there was no going back.

Only she did go back. On everything. Her word. Her vow. Her morals.

Damon could see her pulling away and he felt powerless to stop it. He loved Bonnie, but he loved his brother too and right now he couldn't decide nor did he want to. He knew he meant something to Bonnie, but whether or not that was strong enough to topple what she felt for Stefan, only time would tell. They were essentially back at square one maybe even square negative one hundred. Right now, their number one priority was Stefan.

"I should get you back to the hotel," he said and bounded off the bed.

Bonnie swung her legs over the mattress and Damon was there, extending his hands. She accepted and was pulled to her feet. They stood staring at one another, each thinking about the start to their day and its horrifically tragic end.

Feeling anxiety burst through her, Bonnie side-stepped Damon and slipped her shoes back on. She kept her eyes off the living room not wanting to see the burden of proof that the trashed space now resembled her relationship with her estranged husband.

Damon wanted to reassure Bonnie that things would be okay. But he had no crystal ball, couldn't see into the future and his words would have been pointless and empty because in his gut he knew from this moment forward nothing would ever be the same again.

Once her coat was on, Bonnie waited for Damon by the door as he flipped off lights, grabbed his eyes, and jacket. They said nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Mystic Falls<strong>

From the ride from Damon's deceitful lair, back to the hotel of fallacy, to the airport of escape, Stefan muttered nonstop. How could they do this to him? To him! No he was no saint, and no he didn't always do the right thing, but Stefan avoided being a certifiable and pompous asshole because at the heart of everything he cared about people and their gotdamn feelings. For two years he walked around not being able to tell his hand from his ass and when memories from his former life began to resurface, he no longer felt like an orphan or lost. He had a life and his life was back in Mystic Falls, Virginia with the woman of his dreams.

That woman, that _puta _had the gall to enter a relationship with his brother where it more than likely became sexual because Damon could never be with a woman who didn't put out. She laid up in bed with Damon and then spread her legs the minute Stefan came back on the scene putting his health at risk. Was she retarded?

Stefan laughed humorlessly as he pulled into the driveway of their home. Now it made sense, her hesitation to sleep with him because the bitch had been sleeping with his brother. Bonnie claimed to have cut ties the minute she found out he was alive, but Stefan was having a hard time believing that. Bonnie and Damon had had total access to each other for two years and knowing his brother, Stefan _knew _things were hardcore and intense between them.

"_Fuck,"_ he drew out the word before repeatedly slamming his hand against the steering wheel. Tears welled in his eyes and he shot out of the SUV.

More questions began to plague him as he stormed into his townhome. The quiet unnerved and mocked him. Everywhere his eyes landed they landed on some memento he and Bonnie had purchased together because they were one of those rare couples who actually like shopping with each other. Lamps and other knickknacks purchased from Ethan Allen catalogs or from IKEA. Sterling silver picture frames from Tiffany & Co. Throw pillows, framed photos, terra cotta pots. Stefan wanted to take a crowbar to it all.

His foot would suffice.

Whatever he touched, it was tossed, hurled against the nearest wall or floor where it shattered to a million pieces. He kicked over the end tables, smashed their wedding photos into the unlit fireplace, decapitated figurines, and still it wasn't enough.

He glared at the couch. They probably fucked on that too. Stefan flipped it over, straining the muscles in his back but he didn't give a damn.

Slightly exhausted, Stefan went over to the wet bar and pulled out a fresh bottle of vodka. Screwing off the cap, he upturned it to his mouth and chugged.

The burn felt relaxing and almost tricked Stefan into thinking it was acting like an acid that would erase the years he shared with Bonnie, but of course it wouldn't be that easy. He slammed the bottle on the bar, a few drops of the alcohol dripped from his chin.

He hated them both. Damon was supposed to be his brother. He was supposed to look after his interests, not procure it for himself, but again this wasn't all that surprising to Stefan. Damon had always been envious of him. The one area where the brothers had very little in common was women. Damon liked women who lacked certain cognitive skills because he was of the belief that beauty beat brains and Damon was plenty smart. Stefan liked women who had substance, who were earthy, and didn't live with their head stuck up in the clouds. Bonnie was so different from the kind of women Damon usually flaunted on his arm, so the two of them hooking up still wasn't making coherent sense to Stefan.

He laughed for no particular reason before glowering. His hand threw the bottle clear across the room before he even realized he had moved. Stefan shot off the stool and stomped his way upstairs.

He kicked open their bedroom door and eyed the bed. Here. Did they fuck here? Did they have the _nerve_ to make love to one another in his and Bonnie's martial space? The frame was different from the one he and his stupid wife—nope correction—ex-wife or whatever purchased, but still this room is where the magic happened and it happened often.

By the time Stefan was done, the mattress had been flipped, the sheets and duvet ripped, and one post had been broken.

He needed to leave. He needed to get out of this house filled with so many good memories, but now were sullied with Damon and Bonnie's betrayal.

Stefan laughed again as he was confronted with Bonnie's clothes in the closet. Lined up like perfect little soldiers arranged by color and style. She was so neat she was practically anal. Stefan erred on the sloppy side so whenever he and Bonnie had spats or disagreements it was about his, what he liked to call organized discord.

Had Damon touched her while she wore these clothes? _Of course he did Stefan_, his mind supplied the answer. He probably took great joy in unbuttoning her blouses with his teeth. After all his big brother was the one to teach him how to do that.

Grunting, Stefan ignored Bonnie's clothes and went to his side of the closet. He would not be pulling an Angela Basset although he was _very _tempted. Blindly he reached for shirts, pants, whatever and stuffed them hastily into a rolling suitcase.

Tears fell intermitted from his eyes, getting caught on the tip of his lashes before rolling down his mottled cheeks. Once he had packed enough clothes, he turned and marched out of the closet but stopped.

Stefan took one last look at her belongings. His eyes fell to the rows of shoes that lined the bottom of the closet. Dropping the suitcase, he retraced his steps and then picked up one of her ballerina loafers. It was the shoe Bonnie wore on the first day they met. She still had them after all this time. Clutching it in his hand he cradled it to his chest and his body just went limp.

Even after learning the awful truth, even after formatting and playing several disturbing scenarios in his head, it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to budge his love for her. He still loved her which made him feel sick inside. Why would he still love that bitch? Stefan had no clue, but despite that small irritating revelation it wasn't enough to change the fact of the situation: Bonnie slutted it up with his brother, and there was no forgiving that.

* * *

><p><strong>Hours later...<strong>

He wasn't sure of how much time had passed, but Stefan heard the front door open and close.

"Stefan!" Bonnie bellowed his name after coming to a screeching stop once she noticed the destruction of her living room. Swallowing thickly, Bonnie tried to push that all to the back of her mind.

After leaving Damon's condo, they arrived at the hotel to find that Stefan had checked out. Damon didn't trust to put Bonnie on a plane by herself so he volunteered to drive her back to Virginia. Bonnie had tried to decline his offer although her nerves were pretty much frayed at the ends, but her emotions were too volatile and being around a crowd of people would only hasten her impatience. There was an urgency in her to find Stefan, and get him to hear her out. She loved him. She had never stopped loving him. Yes, she made a grave mistake in getting involved with Damon, but things couldn't just end like this.

Maybe it was her foolish woman pride or her academics telling her she could rationalize her way out of this mess. She was a professional counselor for goodness sake! It was her job to design therapies and treatments to help people who couldn't cope with their lives. How was she supposed to help them when she was riding on the same boat? Her life was in shambles and she needed to fix it.

Damon had said very little to her, once again becoming that pillar of strength she had relied so heavily on. She wasn't exactly sure where things were going to go between them or what would happen, but Bonnie knew that if she honestly wanted to have a future with Stefan, being mindful he didn't outright try to kill her and was able to forgive her, she would have to let Damon go.

Pain sliced through her heart at the thought, and she tried her best not to give into it.

It had taken them close to ten hours to reach Mystic Falls. Bonnie was uncertain about what she would find once she got home. Repeatedly she had called Stefan only for her calls to be routed to voice mail. Perhaps she should just let this go. She couldn't make Stefan forgive her, and she couldn't make him be with her. She had no solid reason for why they should remain together because she had committed an unpardonable sin against him.

But still, she had to try.

Damon had pulled up outside of their home and cut the engine. The Range Rover was parked in the driveway which was a good sign. Bonnie's relief was short-lived as trepidation began to tie her belly into knots, as tension began to eat at the muscles in her neck, shoulders, and upper back.

"I should probably go in with you," Damon had said.

"No," Bonnie shook her head. "I need to talk to him alone. The two of us showing up…just…I need to be alone with him."

"Bonnie, you don't know how Stefan is when he's angry," Damon argued. "I can take a beating from him but I doubt very seriously that you can, and if he tried to put his hands on you I'd have no choice but to…"

Bonnie silenced him by putting her cold fingers against his mouth. Her eyes did roam over the cuts and discolored bruises peppering Damon's face. Bonnie remembered the curious stares and drawn brows the two of them got when they had checked her out of the hotel. Thankfully Stefan hadn't destroyed anything that would warrant an inquiry from hotel security and New York's finest.

"Please, just let me do this."

Damon sighed. He didn't want to leave Bonnie, but knowing the frame of mind his brother was in and the fact he very well might be looking for a fight, if Stefan laid one eye on him it would be round two. He didn't want to put Bonnie through that again so he had no choice but to let her handle this her way.

"I want you to call me. No matter what. Promise me."

"Okay," Bonnie replied somewhat impatiently. The quicker she could get rid of him the better.

Just as she pulled on the door handle to make her escape, Damon caught her left hand, tugged her back into the car, and then kissed her cheek.

He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and then let her go. He didn't pull away from the curb until she slipped inside.

Bonnie was careful where she stepped because there was broken glass and pieces of her expensive lamps and figurines everywhere.

"Stefan!" Bonnie called and then headed upstairs only to be bumrushed by Stefan who was hauling a suitcase after him. "Stefan please talk to me," she changed direction and followed him.

"I don't have anything to say to you! You said enough already. You want to be with Damon, you want to have free liberty to fuck him sideways, go right ahead. I'm not stopping you."

They had cleared the steps and were back in the living room. Bonnie stepped around a picture frame with a wicked piece of broken glass sticking straight up.

In all their years together Stefan never spoke like this and especially not to her.

"It wasn't like that between us. Damon and I haven't been sleeping together for the last two years…"

Stefan whirled around, surprising Bonnie who reared back a little. "I don't really give a shit if you two started fucking two days ago. The fact of the matter is: You. Let. Him. Put. His. Dick. Inside. Of. You! And then to add insult to injury you had the nerve to start sleeping with me again. Did you use protection!"

"Yes!" Bonnie cried.

"At least you did _one _thing right."

Wiping the tears and mucus from her face, Bonnie looked at Stefan. He was furious it went without saying, but behind his anger was a deep rooted hurt.

"Are you in love with him?" Stefan blurted.

Bonnie appeared taken aback by the question. She should have known he would ask that at some point.

Stefan shook his head, "You know what, it doesn't matter if you love him, me, or whoever, we're through. I don't want to see you. Don't fucking me call me. For anything! You can keep this shit hole and everything that's in it. Burn it to the ground for all I care. The only thing I want from you is my name back."

Bonnie still crying—pitiably—and unable to say anything in her defense reached for him, but Stefan jerked away. He reached for the handle on his suitcase, but Bonnie tried to make a go for it.

"Let go," he growled.

"No," Bonnie said defiantly and held on. "I know I messed up _big _time and I can't take it back, but please…"

Stefan pulled the suitcase with all his strength which was effective in getting Bonnie to let go, but then she fell backwards and tried to catch herself.

Vaguely Stefan remembered seeing a picture frame lying right on the spot where Bonnie was falling with a piece of glass sticking up. The blood curdling scream that ripped through her confirmed his memory. Stefan's blood froze and he was momentarily paralyzed because he wasn't sure if he may have just killed her.

Bonnie groaned and then rolled over. She was still wearing the dress from the day before but that wasn't what caught his attention, but the six inch piece of glass protruding from her thigh.

Spurts of blood flew out of the wound, coating the glass, and the floor beneath.

"Oh, fuck," Stefan moaned and fell to his knees his hands shaking. He didn't know what to do. If he pulled the sharp glass out, Bonnie could potentially bleed to death.

"T-t-tourniquet," Bonnie bit her lips as she held her leg trying to staunch the bleeding.

Frantically, Stefan unclasped his belt and then wrapped it around Bonnie's upper thigh, above the glass and tied it as tightly as possible. Stefan held his breath as he picked her up and rushed out of the house.

He had to get to the hospital and fast because she was losing too much blood.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Triangles are a messy business. I wanted to incorporate a flashback scene to show happier times for Stefonnie and even Bamon while she and Damon where just cordial for the sake of being cordial with one another. We're about half way done with this and no the drama isn't exactly slowing down. I can't exactly promise a happy ending for anyone, but there are more twists and turns ahead. And for those wondering about that mystery woman Stefan had grown an attachment to in Montana, well you won't necessarily be "seeing" her soon, but she won't be far from Mr. Stefan's thoughts in the following chapter. Thank you guys for your patience. Oh, and if you're following me on Tumblr *blows you a big kiss* THANK YOU SO MUCH! Love you! R&R!**


	11. No Snitching

**A/N: Hello lovelies. Here is the latest. Enjoy.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

There was blood splatter on his hand that was kind of in the shape of a maple leaf. Constantly he rubbed his palms together; the roughened texture made more real by the fact dried blood, Bonnie's blood covered his hands. Stefan kept his eyes fixed on the linoleum floor not wanting to look up at the harsh florescent lighting overhead. His stomach was in knots, sweated beaded along his hairline and coated his upper lip. Every time he inhaled he smelled nothing save the metallic odor of blood. It seemed to be everywhere he looked.

He couldn't get that image out of his mind. It was burned. Branded into his memory of seeing Bonnie fall on top of that glass, of seeing that translucent shard protruding from her thigh when she rolled over. It was his fault they were here, in this predicament, and he wished he could take back the last thirty-two hours. Stefan had never wanted a do-over so badly in his life.

Inwardly, Stefan listened to himself rail at his brother and Bonnie, and naturally his sadistic mind would replay his parting words to them both:

"_I hope you fuckin' die. Both of you."_

In present time, Stefan's eyelids sealed themselves shut like elevator doors as another bout of tears threaten to burst like bubbles overflowing out of a cauldron.

He hadn't meant that. He _didn't _mean it. As pissed off as he was, Stefan knew he'd hate himself forever if anything were to happen to Damon or Bonnie, and as it stood he was learning a very harsh lesson that the words he spoke could cause life or death to occur.

So he closed off those thoughts and switched over to better memories. He was back in France with Bonnie, the two of them laughing after having broken the bed in her first apartment. Then he saw her standing on the sidelines drowning out the voices of the other spectators cheering him on while he played soccer, football, or rugby. As was custom, he'd wink at her, Bonnie would blow him a kiss, and any time one of the teams took a timeout, he'd jog over to her to get a drink of water, and nibble her lips, which earned him several insulting nicknames from his teammates.

Next they were standing outside of their house, his hands over her eyes before lowering them so that Bonnie could see where they would be spending the next fifteen to twenty years living as man and wife before moving to Florida to retire.

In the early days of their marriage they would sit in front of the stone fireplace, sharing a bottle of wine, discussing when they would start having kids and what schools they would attend, and trying to guess at what careers and professions their children would have. Stefan recalled telling Bonnie that he wanted five sons. Bonnie balked at the idea of being the only female in the household and said she wanted three girls. Stefan didn't like the idea of having to shoot someone's son if any fool young boy broke one of his little girls' hearts. So they came to a compromise: they'd simply have one of each and call it a day.

Since Bonnie had been on birth control religiously since she was eighteen, it wasn't as easy to get pregnant as they had hoped. But sex between them never became a job, a means to get pregnant. Bonnie never summoned him to bed for the expressed purpose of milking him of his sperm, nor did she trivialize their couplings by thanking him for making his weekly deposit. All of their encounters had been filled with passion, and equal giving and taking of ones souls. They made love with their eyes open, touched one another without inhibitions. Bonnie had ensnared him for life. Forever, she had said.

Well, forever turned out to be two years of dating and two years of marriage.

And for twenty-four months he remembered nothing of their love, nothing of the connection they shared, or the promises they made to one another. Stefan had her picture, stared at her image everyday praying for something to trigger his memory of the girl with the Mona Lisa smile and the haunting green eyes. For two years nothing came except dreams that he wasn't sure if he could believe they were real memories having manifested themselves deep from within his subconscious.

Stefan had grown angry and frustrated with the holes, the gaps in his memory and tried to fill them with new ones. He saw himself back in the Trueblood household with Elan and Tehya learning his basic skills all over again, enshrining himself in a world he never would have known existed if pity hadn't been taken out on him. He passed his days by learning all he could about the world that was around him, and gave up trying to figure out his place outside of his surrogate home.

And just as he was adjusting to his new life, coming into his own, that's when he came across someone who managed to spark an interest in him. An interest a man would have in a woman he wanted to get to know better.

Leah Clearwater.

Stefan hadn't allowed himself to think of her since coming back to Bonnie, back to Mystic Falls. Nothing more than platonic friendship had taken place between himself and Leah. She was very much aware that there was a woman out there that loved him, and though Stefan had tried to convince Leah that he couldn't possibly love a woman he couldn't remember, Leah said that one day his memories would come back and he'd have to leave. They had no real future together because his path had already been mapped out, and there was no changing it.

Against his better judgment, Stefan began to compare Leah and Bonnie. They were fundamentally different on the surface but deep down they were nearly interchangeable. Where Leah had a patient temperament, Bonnie could be fire and ice all in one. Leah was calm like water flowing in a stream, took her time doing things whereas Bonnie could be a roaring ocean or a gentle sea making snap decisions. In the few occasions Stefan had touched Leah, either to help her down a flight of steps or what have you, he got a rush, a kick to his heart, yet it paled in comparison to when he touched Bonnie. It was like he became ravenous for her; it was unnatural how much he craved feeling her soft skin. In their past, Stefan had wasted entire weekends doing nothing more than massaging Bonnie's skin.

Grabbing tufts of his hair, Stefan was tempted to yank out patches of it. Was it deplorable and distasteful on his part to be thinking of Leah when Bonnie was in surgery; and not only that but comparing them as if they were pros and cons of some grand decision he had to make? Hadn't he already made his decision?

_Whore. _

That's what he had called Bonnie. Bile and other acidic gases in his stomach gurgled and rushed up his esophagus leaving a rancid and hot taste in the back of his mouth. Stefan leaned back in the chair until his head thudded against the wall. He shifted his weight in the hard plastic chair, and then stared straight ahead. He was barely aware of his surroundings in the ER waiting room. There were at least three people hacking up their lungs, while others sat reading magazines, or moaned.

His throat was dry and he could certainly benefit from a cup of water, but he didn't want to move from this spot just in case Bonnie's operating doctor came out to speak with him.

He closed his eyes as flashes from him bursting inside of Mystic Falls Hospital Center cradling Bonnie in his arms thrust themselves to the forefront of his thoughts. He had walked right up to the patient registration kiosk and said:

"Help me! She's bleeding! She's losing so much blood!"

The attendant picked up the phone and immediately paged for a gurney and the proper personnel. What happened next was a blur to Stefan. He just remembered placing Bonnie on the gurney even though she was clinging on to his hand for dear life.

"You'll be all right," he tried to reassure her, but the fear etched on her face made Stefan believe he was having a heart attack. In fact none of what had transpired felt real. He was starring in a poorly scripted movie that had one of two outcomes: either all would be forgiven or someone in this fucked up triangle was going to be dead.

Several times Stefan warred with himself to call Damon and let him know what happened. But he didn't want to talk to him. Besides, what could he really do? He was in New York.

Right?

"Stefan?"

Bolting to his feet, heart pounding in his chest and throat, Stefan faced the direction he heard his name being called.

His pulse semi returned to normal when he saw it was Elena dressed in her white lab coat holding a silver clipboard in her hand.

Licking his dry lips, Stefan stood awkwardly as Elena drew closer to him, her arched eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and concern. It was hard meeting her whiskey-colored eyes because he knew she was taking a tour of his person, probably beginning with the maroon and rust stains on his shirt and jeans, his bloodied hands, before climbing upward to get a good look at the shiner to his left eye, and bruise to his jaw.

"What happened?" Elena asked as she stood less than a foot away from Stefan.

"Bonnie is in surgery."

Elena's eyes widened as her jaw slackened. She gently took Stefan by the elbow and drew him to a corner of the waiting room.

"She's in surgery? Were you guys in a car accident?"

Shaking his head, Stefan folded his arms over his chest. What he should have been doing instead of taking a trip down memory lane was getting his story straight. He knew he was bound to be questioned by Bonnie's doctor on what happened, how did she come about her injury. If they suspected spousal or domestic abuse, the police would be called to start a preliminary investigation. He'd have to explain his bruises, and the implications alone that he and Bonnie had gotten into a physical altercation could spell jail time for him especially if they went digging into his past and saw he had had run-ins with the law before.

Yet everyone's main objective for the time being was Bonnie and getting her stabilized.

"If you weren't in a car accident…what happened?"

"I got into a fight with Damon," that much was the truth, although the fight had happened hours ago.

"Over what?" Elena asked incredulously.

"Doesn't matter," Stefan deflected.

"So you and Damon got into a fight? Wait a minute. Aren't you guys supposed to be in New York for his birthday?"

"Look, Elena," Stefan cut her off because he felt his ire about the whole situation returning. "I don't want to discuss this right now. My main concern is Bonnie."

Elena shut her mouth but she wasn't finished. Not by a long shot. Things weren't adding up and she would find out one way or another on what really took place. Nevertheless, she'd let it go for now because she needed to know how serious Bonnie was hurt and how long she had been in surgery for.

"Have you spoken with her doctor?" Elena slapped on her professional coat of armor.

"No, no one outside of the admissions nurse has spoken to me since Bonnie was taken off to surgery about an hour and forty-five minutes ago."

"All right, just have a seat. I'll see if I can find out anything."

"Thank you, Elena."

"Don't thank me just yet. I fully expect you or Bonnie to tell me what's going on."

Stefan said nothing, but swallowed reflexively and watched as Elena walked off to go on an information gathering crusade.

* * *

><p>Damon tried to keep himself busy. Unfortunately it wasn't working. There was a college football game playing in the background, but he wasn't paying it a lick of attention. Constantly he would eye his cell phone waiting for the stupid piece of technology to ring. He needed to know what was going on with Bonnie and Stefan. The silence, the waiting, the being in the dark was driving him stir-crazy. Already twice he had to talk himself out of picking up his keys and storming back over to their place.<p>

He told himself to relax. Bonnie would call as soon as she had the opportunity to do so. Damon had to remind himself that Bonnie wasn't finicky. If she told you she would do something, you had faith she would come through. It was who she was. She hated disappointing anyone, and it was something he might have used to his advantage a few times in their history; but naturally Bonnie would have a field day in reading him his Miranda Rights and telling him about himself.

Just the thought alone was enough to eek a smirk out of him before it dissolved. Damon might have been the master of his own ship, or at the very least he liked to believe he pulled the strings, yet the anxiety and nervousness he was feeling was nearly foreign to him. Damon wasn't a worrier. He never had any reason to be. When everyone around him pegged him to be a failure all he really had to do was either prove them right or wrong. Damon worked his best under pressure and he _loved _it when people underestimated him. He was the certifiable underdog, something he used to shun back when he was a hothead and was reactionary to nearly everything. But now it was a title he relished because in some instances the underdog did come out on top.

But he wasn't exactly standing on confidence because he didn't know where he stood with Bonnie or Stefan, and he wasn't sure if they were deciding to work things out, which meant cutting him loose, leaving him behind.

That thought alone made Damon stand in front of the toilet waiting for vomit to come.

So Damon did what he did best. He began to plan. If Bonnie and Stefan really were finished, Damon, if he could convince Bonnie, would arrange for them to leave the country at least for a month or so. Damon had racked up plenty of vacation hours, and Bonnie, well she could practice counseling anywhere. Finding another position wouldn't be all that difficult. They would take things slow; there wouldn't be any need to rush into anything because the both of them would need to adjust to living life without Stefan. Again. He could make her happy. They had been happy.

In his own time, Damon would work on repairing the damage to his relationship with Stefan. Right now it went without saying Stefan wouldn't be receptive to a single thing to come out of Damon's mouth. So he would have to bide his time.

Hence his obstacle really lied with Bonnie. If she and Stefan were done, that would give him time to make his case. But if she and Stefan were going to work things out…

Damon hadn't figured out that part yet. Logically he knew he'd have no choice but to let her go, step out of the way, and return to New York empty-handed and broken-hearted. Would not be the first time.

Damon pulled his lips back from his teeth, picked up the first thing his hand landed on and he threw it. The sound of broken glass reminded him so much of his life. Things could appear strong and stable on the outside, but on the inside it was just as fragile and breakable.

Before he could pick up another pricey artifact, the shrill noise of his cell phone interrupted his redecorating.

Rushing over to answer it, Damon frowned because he didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Damon? It's Elena."

One dark eyebrow rose in the air. Damon had no idea why Elena was calling him, and he also wasn't aware that she had had his number to begin with. "Hey, Elena…now isn't such a good time."

"Bonnie is in the hospital. She's having surgery."

Damon froze. Then he blinked. His lips moved but no sound followed.

"What do you mean she's in the hospital and that she's having surgery? What the hell is going on?"

Elena sighed. "That's what I'm trying to find out. I saw Stefan sitting in the ER waiting room, covered in blood with a bruised face. I thought he and Bonnie had gotten into a car accident or something, but he said there was no car accident. I just spoke with one of Bonnie's nurses. Apparently she landed on glass and it penetrated her upper left thigh."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Damon felt the ground give way under his feet. He took a seat on the arm of his leather sectional. Damon's throat was closing in on itself because in his mind's eye he pictured Stefan covered from head to toe in Bonnie's blood.

What the actual _fuck _happened?

"Has Stefan said anything?" Damon finally came back on the line.

"No. But he did say that you two got into a fight. Did Bonnie try to break you guys up and she got hurt in the process?"

"We did get into a fight, and yeah, Bonnie broke it up, but…"

"What in the world were you two fighting over?" Elena interrupted his explanation to which Damon was glad.

"Money," was the first thing to spill from his lips.

Elena's dry laughter was evidence enough she didn't buy his bullshit. "Try again."

"Look, it's a long story with not enough time to tell, but…I'm on my way to the hospital."

There was a pregnant pause. "What do you mean 'on my way to the hospital'? Aren't you supposed to be in New York?"

"Thanks for letting me know about Bonnie, Elena," Damon hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, coat, and booked it out of his condo.

* * *

><p>The scene that greeted Damon was a lot more subdued than Hollywood's depiction of emergency rooms. He saw some patients shuffling around, holding on to their IV stands, while doctors and nurses stood in clusters of two or four going over patient's charts, or talking about something trivial that happened on the news.<p>

Strolling up to the information desk, the attendant who was flipping through the pages of an office supply catalogue pushed it away as soon as her eyes landed on Damon.

"Hi, can you tell me which room Bonnie Salvatore is in? I'm…her brother-in-law."

The receptionist smiled probably thanking her lucky stars that Damon wasn't there to see his wife. She pecked away at the keys as her sea-green eyes squinted at the screen.

"Oh, she hasn't been admitted to a room just yet. She's still in surgery."

Damon flicked his wrist to check the time. How long had she been in surgery? "Can you tell me how long she's been in surgery?"

"Her procedure began at three fifteen."

It was nearing five o'clock.

"Damon?"

Turning at the sound of Elena's voice, he tossed a 'thank you' over his shoulder towards the receptionist and met Elena half way.

"Follow me," Elena gasped a little when she saw Damon's face, but shook it off and led the way to where Stefan was waiting. Stepping aside she kept her eyes on Damon as he bypassed those who were sitting and waiting to hear news from their loved one's physicians.

Stefan was sitting as far away from everyone as he possibly could. Damon faltered a bit when he got a good look at his brother. The bottom half of Stefan's shirt was saturated in dried blood, and if it weren't for his dark blue denim jeans, he would have messed the additional blood stains. Stefan's hands up to his elbows it seemed were speckled with Bonnie's blood.

How much did she lose? How badly was she hurt? What the hell did Stefan do?

It took a minute or so for Stefan to realize that the dark-haired guy standing across the room from him with a slightly horrified expression on his face was in fact Damon. Then that horrified expression turned into barely controlled rage. Rising to his full height, Stefan crossed over the room, nearly collided his shoulder with Damon's as he walked into the hall.

Damon followed and then stood opposite of Stefan his lips pursed tightly and his glacial eyes blazing.

"I'm guessing Elena told you?" Stefan speculated.

"She did. What happened?"

"What are you even doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I drove Bonnie back to Mystic Falls. To _you_," Damon hurled his words like a poisoned tipped dagger. "What the _fuck_ did you do to her? Did you put your hands on her? That's what you do now? You beat up women?" Damon sneered through clenched teeth.

A spark lit up Stefan's dull bluish-gray orbs; his nostrils flared. He was tempted to plant his meaty fist in Damon's cheek, but there was no need to draw even more attention to himself. Instead he bit the inside of his cheek, and took a deep breath.

"_I didn't touch her!"_ Stefan whispered defensively. "We were…we were arguing. She grabbed my suitcase and I yanked it away and she fell. She landed on a shard of glass from a picture frame I broke. I didn't lay a hand on her."

In Damon's mind it didn't matter if Stefan hadn't laid a pinky on her. The fact of the matter was, Stefan flexed his muscle knowing he was a hundred times stronger than Bonnie, and as a result she was now in surgery.

Tempering his anger took a while, but Damon managed. "Do you know how serious her injury is?"

The dull and pained looked returned to Stefan's face. "No. No one has come to speak with me. I-I…this is my fault. I'm the reason she's here."

Damon wasn't going to do a thing to quell Stefan's notorious guilt.

The two brothers stood looking at everything but each other until they spotted someone in green scrubs headed their way. Stefan pushed away from the wall.

"Mr. Salvatore?" a cultured voice asked.

"Yes," Stefan replied.

The doctor extended an olive toned hand towards Stefan, and briefly flicked her nearly black eyes at Damon. "I'm Dr. Monica Patel. Your wife is out of surgery and she's in recovery. The glass did knick her femur, but there was no nerve damage which was our primary concern. There was a lot of internal bleeding and Misses Salvatore had to undergo a transfusion. But she's stable and if all continues to go well she can be released as early as tomorrow afternoon, mindful an infection doesn't set in."

Both Stefan and Damon let out audible sighs of relief. Stefan grabbed the doctor's hand and shook it vigorously. "Thank you so much, Dr. Patel."

The doctor smiled. "I'll have a nurse come and escort you to her room once she's out of recovery," then her face became serious. "Do you mind if I have a word with Mr. Salvatore alone?" she directed at Damon.

"Sure, he's all yours," Damon got missing.

Stefan started to feel like a student having to stay after school to serve detention. He knew what the doctor wanted to question him about.

"You should know why I wanted to speak with you privately," Dr. Patel said. Stefan nodded. "As hospital procedure states, when something looks like a domestic dispute, an investigation has to take place."

Stefan could hear the doctor speaking but all he could really think about was Damon sneaking off to go see Bonnie.

* * *

><p>Groggy. That was the best way Bonnie could describe how she felt right now. And strangely displaced. Her thoughts were garbled, but she knew without asking that she was in a hospital room if evidence by the fact the bed she was resting on wasn't her pillow top mattress, and the annoying beep of the monitors weren't dead giveaways.<p>

Infinitesimally Bonnie tried to move and her body felt fine except her leg. It felt like she stuck it in an oven and roasted her flesh clean off.

A heavy-set nurse with tightly coiled hair entered her room. "Glad to see those eyes open, missy. You have a few visitors."

Visitors? Already? Other than Stefan no one else knew she was here. Just the thought of Stefan made her stomach somersault. The numbers on her heart monitor and blood pressure were beginning to climb.

The nurse told whoever was waiting out in the hall that it was okay to come in. Bonnie sat up as best she could, wincing at the burning taking place deep within her leg, yet she shielded her discomfort with a self-deprecating smile when Elena popped into the room.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Elena bent over the rail and hugged Bonnie as best she could. When she pulled away she tried to tuck some unruly strands of Bonnie's hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling? I heard Dr. Patel did your surgery. She's very good."

"I feel," Bonnie shrugged and soon got distracted by the sight of Damon taking up space in her small private room. As much as she wanted the last thirty plus hours to have been a nightmare, seeing the discolored bruise on his cheek and jaw just brought everything back into startling clarity. It had happened. Their secret was out. Stefan hated them both and wanted nothing farther to do with them.

Clearing her throat, Bonnie finished what she had been attempting to say. "I've felt better."

Elena gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed, ready to start her inquisition, but Damon held her off by approaching Bonnie and placing a deep kiss to her forehead. He wanted to kiss her lips but figured he'd only end up in a bed next to Bonnie's if he attempted to take liberties with Elena in the room.

"You scared me, cara. Don't do that again."

Bonnie met Damon's eyes, his best features. Her cheeks warmed. He hadn't called her cara in a long time.

Elena who sat silently watching their interaction—frowned.

Something tapping Bonnie's foot brought her attention back into focus. Her viridian orbs latched on to Elena's quizzical garnet ones.

"Damon can you give us a minute?" Bonnie asked.

Leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew he didn't have much authority here. For all intents and purposes he and Bonnie were family through marriage. That was it and that was all. He nodded and turned to leave but then stopped.

Stefan hovered in the doorway looking uncertain yet determined.

Bonnie leaned a little in bed to see what had apparently stopped Damon dead in his tracks. When her eyes landed on Stefan, her already erratically beating heart torpedoed in her chest.

"Bonnie your pressure is rising," Elena stood up from the bed, alarm peppering her words. "I'm going to get Dr. Patel."

Resting a hand on her chest, Bonnie took a few deep breaths. "No, I'm fine."

Damon thought, so Stefan couldn't kill her with his bare hands so he would settle with giving Bonnie a heart attack.

Stefan crossed over the invisible boundary and entered Bonnie's room. "Give me a minute with…my wife."

Damon's punching hand balled into a tight fist.

Elena could sense the tension in the room which naturally made her curious to know what was _really _going on. The way Damon had behaved with Bonnie…well she had never seen any brother-in-law take such care with the woman who married his brother. And she didn't miss the look of affection that had been a waving beacon on Bonnie's face towards Damon. Nor did it escape Elena that Bonnie looked slightly petrified to be left alone with Stefan, and her skin began to take on a slight greenish pallor.

Sliding off the bed, Elena kissed Bonnie's cheek and then grabbed the sleeve of Damon's leather jacket and led him out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Alone, Stefan shifted on his feet. He tried to look at Bonnie, but he couldn't keep his eyes on her for longer than a few seconds at a time. There was about a good seven feet of space between them and he didn't seem like he was going to get any closer.

That sadden Bonnie tremendously, but she would look at it as a good thing because right now she slightly feared for her safety which was absurd because deep down she knew Stefan would never hurt her.

"I," Stefan coughed to clear his throat. "I never meant for things to spiral like this, Bonnie."

"I know, Stefan. I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You were angry."

Stefan shook his head. "That's no excuse. I put your life in danger. I might be… extremely pissed off at you, but I had no right to do what I did."

"Stefan…"

He finally unglued his feet from the floor and strode over to her bed. Stefan didn't make a move to touch Bonnie. His eyes did drop to her leg but he couldn't see the extent of the damage their game of tug-o-war caused. She was stuffed underneath a lightweight blanket after all.

"How do you feel? Are you in pain?"

Bonnie fiddled with her fingers. "It hurts. It feels like I pulled a muscle. So long as I don't try to move suddenly, I don't really feel anything other than soreness. But then again, I'm a little high on pain meds."

Tentatively the feuding couple smiled at one another.

"I wanted to speak with you alone because the police are coming to question you on what happened."

Bonnie's heart once again began to pound in tandem. "What for? It was an accident. Do they think you purposely did this to me?"

"Look at my face. I look like I went twelve rounds with Tyson and I bring you in here all bloody and shit. They say its procedure, but if the police happens to take a trip to the house…I just wanted to let you know."

"Are you being arrested?"

Stefan shrugged. "For right now I'm still a free man."

"I'm not pressing charges," Bonnie said vehemently. "What happened was an accident."

"I threatened your life," Stefan snorted dryly.

Bonnie recoiled a bit because she knew what he was referring to. His parting words as he flew out of Damon's condo in New York.

"You were angry and spoke in the heat of the moment," Bonnie argued.

"Be that as it may this all looks messy. I can't be here when they come to question you, so I'm going to go back to the house and get some of your personal things. Dr. Patel thinks you'll be released tomorrow afternoon so long as you don't get an infection." Pause. "Bonnie, I'm _so_ sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Stefan. For everything." Bonnie hesitated. "Why did you call me your wife just now?"

Stefan shrugged. He had no idea other than he knew it would get a rise out of Damon.

"It's just a word," he said. "After all that's happened, it doesn't mean anything."

Bonnie gulped and looked down at her fingers. "Stefan…I thought you were dead. We both did. We didn't…nothing ever happened between us when you were still here. Yes, we crossed lines that never should have been crossed, but we weren't together just to hurt you."

"I don't want to talk about this right now. I have a mess to clean up at the house and you need a change of clothes if you're being released tomorrow."

"I still love you, Stefan," Bonnie wiped her nose and chanced looking up at him. Stefan's face was stone.

He wanted to say something malicious like that's too damn bad, but he couldn't. Instead, Stefan would let her words absorb later. Right now, he had things to take care of. He inclined his head and then pivoted on his feet. He ran into his brother and Elena in the hallway.

"I'm heading back to the house to get a few things for Bonnie. Can you sit with her until I get back?" Stefan asked the general assembly.

"I can for fifteen minutes before I have to start my rounds again," said Elena.

Damon said nothing because he and Stefan already knew he wasn't leaving Bonnie's side.

"Okay," Stefan said as he lowered his head and walked past them.

Elena glanced at Damon before heading towards Bonnie's room. She turned back when she noticed he hadn't followed, and that's where Elena remembered that Bonnie had wanted to speak with her alone.

When Elena came out of the room exactly fifteen minutes later, her nose was inflamed and she wiped the back of her hand across her cheek in a futile attempt to get rid of the evidence that she had been crying. Elena paused in front of Damon.

"Bonnie told me everything."

Damon waited to be accosted and called every foul name in the book. He was a low down dirty bastard of a dog to go after his sister-in-law during her time of mourning his brother.

What he got was pulled into a hug. Their embrace ended as quickly and awkwardly as it began.

"I have to start my rounds," Elena sniffed and strolled down the hall.

Damon was rendered speechless as he made his way into Bonnie's room.

Pushing the door open, he found Bonnie having her vitals checked by another nurse. He stood silently to the side observing.

"How is she doing?" Damon inquired as the nurse packed up her materials.

"She's doing well. Has a strong heart, that one," she winked and left the two of them alone.

Damon sat down in the chair positioned caddy corner to the bed. He didn't hesitate to reach for Bonnie's hand.

"You told Elena the truth? Why?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I was tired of holding it in. She's my best friend," she smiled sadly. "She was more upset that I didn't think I could trust her enough to confide in her. She asked me if things were over between Stefan and me…and well he's the only one who can answer that question."

Unfortunately, Damon knew that Stefan was still very much in love with Bonnie. That was the curse of being a Salvatore—literally loving someone until death did you part.

"And," Bonnie continued, "Elena asked where things stood between us."

Damon tightened his hold on Bonnie's hand.

"She asked me if I had to make a choice right this second, who would I choose."

Damon heard the blood rushing to his ears so in an act of impulsivity he leaned closer to Bonnie and captured her lips in a searing kiss. It had been too long since he tasted her mouth, pillaged it like a pirate taking over a cargo ship.

Bonnie, overwhelmed and caught off guard, couldn't get a breath in. Her hands reached up to push him away, but Damon ended their kiss.

"I couldn't hold back. I can't hold back. Not anymore," Damon told her.

"Damon, are you crazy?" Bonnie scolded him. "What if Stefan had walked in?"

"Then he would have walked in," Damon sat back against the padded chair. "Okay, so the timing might be a little inappropriate, but I've gone without kissing you long enough. I had a bad feeling about leaving you alone with Stefan. When Elena called me and told me you were having surgery, my heart was in my throat the whole drive here. I didn't know what happened, or what to think. I just imagined the worst."

Bonnie was quiet for a while. "You know I have to figure things out with Stefan."

Damon grudgingly nodded. "I know that. Who would you have chosen, Bonnie?"

"This isn't a choice where I just flip a coin and call a side. I had a life with your brother, a _good_ life. And then I didn't. I never thought I would be happy again, but then I was. For a while."

"And now?"

"Now everything is ruined."

Damon took her hand again and stared almost imploringly at Bonnie. "It doesn't have to be."

There was a tap on the door just moments prior to it being pushed open. Two of Mystic Falls finest strolled in, taking off their hats in the presence of a lady. Damon got to his feet.

"Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Salvatore. I'm Sheriff Danvers, this is my partner Colson. We just need to ask you a couple of questions pertaining to your…accident."

"I have nothing to say other than it was an _accident_ and I'm not pressing charges due to my own clumsiness. And if I do in fact decide to come into the station, which won't be happening, then yes I'll give you a call. Sorry you wasted a trip coming here. Now, I'm feeling tired and my doctor says I should get as much rest as possible before I'm discharged."

The two sheriffs looked at one another knowing their investigation had pretty much been shut down. There was nothing further they could do if Bonnie wasn't going to press charges. And so far what information they had was circumstantial at best.

"Sorry indeed," Sheriff Danvers said, but then handed Bonnie his card anyways. "Just in case," he told her. "I've been in this profession for a long time, Mrs. Salvatore, and I've seen and heard it all. This might have been an 'accident' as you claim, but what about the next time?"

"If you're trying to victim shame me, sir, I should tell you right now it's not working because I'm not a victim. You've never been called to my residence before for a domestic dispute and you never will," Bonnie took a breath. "I know my rights and I'm done talking."

The sheriffs looked at Damon to see if he might give something away, but they almost had to do a double take when they spotted his bruises.

"Do you mind if I ask how you came about those bruises, sir?" Sheriff Colson asked.

"Yes, I'm a member of a BDSM club. Anything else you want to know?"

Bonnie coughed to hide her snickers as she watched the apples of both sheriffs' cheeks redden. Well, it was clear that the sheriffs weren't going to get anything out of Bonnie or Damon and decided to cut their losses.

"Hope you have a speedy recovery," Sheriff Danvers said and hustled towards the exit.

"Thank you," Bonnie replied graciously and held her breath until the sheriffs were gone. "You are so crazy."

Damon retook his seat. "You definitely are a pit bull in a skirt."

"More like a gladiator," Bonnie attempted to smile but then her chin quivered and her floodgates opened. She had never been questioned by the police before and though she had been quaking on the inside she was proud of the front she put up. The last thing her life needed was another scandal, to see Stefan's image splashed across the newspaper or on TV being carted off to jail and subsequently labeled a wife beater. He hadn't laid a finger on her. She had been the one to make a go for his suitcase in a weak attempt to get Stefan to stay and listen to her, but he yanked it away, she lost her footing, and she landed on glass.

That was the end of the story. Naturally everyone else would put their colorful spin to it. And if the truth of why the Salvatore brothers traded blows ever saw the light of day, well that would just up the ante on the salaciousness of the story.

Bonnie slumped against the pillows as Damon wiped her tears away. She was tired, she felt lonely, and the pressure was crushing her from the inside. She knew Damon wanted to know who she would make a life with and right now, Bonnie was at the point where she was willing to let them both go.

"Shush," Damon said and rubbed her shoulders. "You might feel like you have nothing left, but you have me."

"Damon…"

"I know. Just try to get some sleep."

Her eyes drifted closed but then they opened a moment later. "Will you please help Stefan? At the house." Bonnie yawned and felt herself going under. "He needs you, Damon."

Yeah, Damon thought. But I need you.

Chapter end.

**A/N: There might be a good five chapters left in this little fic of mine. Some heavy truths will be revealed in the next update. If the demand is high I will try to update again sometime next week. I want to get this finished and I will say that I'm still not a hundred percent if any particular ship will be endgame although a few reviews from the last chapter do have me leaning towards one brother more so than the other, but nothing is set in stone just yet. Just a fair warning. Nevertheless, thank you for not abandoning this story although it doesn't get updated as much as I'm sure you'd all like it to be. Until next time, love you!**


	12. These Are My Confessions

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for an update. This chapter is pretty much a continuation from the prior one. You might have to re-read that. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

He had a key but he didn't think it would be intelligent or wise on his end to insert it into the lock and enter the premises as if he owned the house. So he waited. More like hesitated, breathing evenly—or at least trying to—through his nostrils and expelling his breath through his slightly parted lips that were dry. In fact his entire mouth felt like a roasting desert, but he swallowed despite the sourness to his breath, and took one final breath, holding it, trapping it in his lungs, before ringing the doorbell.

An eternity turned into infinity plus several years before Damon could hear his brother's footsteps approaching. Once again he told himself to breathe, to straighten his spine because the next few hours of his life were about to be a doozy.

The door swung open on oiled hinges and Damon came face-to-face with cold grayish-blue eyes that sometimes became green in different lighting. A million thoughts and words flew through his mind, but Damon found himself inexplicably speechless. That was a first because he always had something to say, some anecdote, joke, sarcastic remark, observation, quip, yet his mind was blank—flat line—dead.

A staring contest ensued and Stefan was determined to be the winner. His hand tightened on the edge of the door, the splintered end sunk into his palm and if he held on any tighter he might actually draw blood. He refused to move from his spot, to invite his brother inside because he was afraid that as soon as they were trapped behind closed doors, another fight would break out and no one was around to stop it.

Time passed, nothing happened, and then eventually, Stefan sighed heavily. "What are you doing here?"

Damon could say he was here because Bonnie told him to come and lend a hand, but he didn't think that would be smart. It would only make Stefan more liable to slam the door in his face after cursing him out from here to kingdom come. Instead he hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"I'm not here on Jehovah Witness business obviously, but…I'm here to…help."

"You've done enough," Stefan replied curtly.

"I know that, Stefan and that's why I'm here. This isn't easy for anyone, but I'm trying… I didn't mean for any of this to happen…I didn't want to hurt my brother, but I did and I can't take it back."

Stefan turned away and walked back to the living room where he had been in the middle of sweeping up all the broken glass. Damon had to catch the door before it slammed in his face. Stepping over the threshold and into the foyer, he closed the door behind him casting one final look outside.

There was no one on the street. Not even a neighbor was walking a dog.

Snatching up the garbage bag, Stefan began to fill it with broken pieces of lamps, picture frames, anything that had been demolished during his temper tantrum. Repeatedly he clenched and unclenched his jaws feeling the tension build in his muscles like pus in a pimple. Now it was just waiting to be popped.

Shrugging off his coat, Damon began to clean. He and Stefan could talk later once all the overturned furniture had been placed back in its proper sitting, and the floor was cleared of glass and other broken debris.

Stefan wanted to feel annoyed no he was annoyed that Damon was here. It didn't make the situation any better, and it certainly wasn't helping in improving his mood. So he did what he did best when his brother irritated him to no end—he ignored him.

As Damon did his part in making the townhouse look presentable he couldn't help but pause and stare at the pool of blood on the floor just a few feet away from the staircase. Adjacent from it was Stefan's packed suitcase, tipped over and forgotten. A scene began to play out in Damon's mind about those last few moments where Bonnie was obviously pleading for Stefan to stay and talk to her, and Stefan denying her request. He imagined Bonnie going for the handle of the suitcase as a last ditch effort to prevent Stefan from leaving, and his brother yanking in the opposite direction to break Bonnie's hold. Then, Bonnie was falling backwards and landing on a sharp piece of glass that managed to knick her femur and nearly caused her to hemorrhage. He kept his eyes fixed on that spot.

Out of his peripheral vision, Stefan noticed that Damon had stopped cleaning and was staring at the one spot he had been avoiding to even look at or go near since he came back home. Swallowing thickly he tried to return to his task of picking up the larger chunks of the vodka bottle he chucked at the wall, but the guilt was beginning to make his hands shake, and tears threatened to fall.

"Why her?" Stefan asked suddenly.

Hearing his little brother's voice nearly made Damon jump out of his skin. He faced Stefan who was standing behind the wet bar.

"It wasn't planned," Damon attempted to explain. "She was devastated when we couldn't find you. Stefan, Bonnie was a mess. She wasn't sleeping, she was barely eating, and…she was going on a downward spiral. Yes, I could have just kept my distance after your memorial service, but I couldn't abandon her like that. But if it wasn't for her needing someone around, I would have fallen apart, too. You're my brother."

Stefan looked away unable to maintain eye contact with Damon who he felt had a very warped sense of brotherhood.

Dropping the garbage bag, Damon tentatively began to approach Stefan. "Under normal circumstances Bonnie and I…never would have gone there with each other. She was crazy about you, and she couldn't _deal _with the fact you were gone. I tried to do my part in calling her when I could, but my work schedule got in the way. Nothing that happened, happened overnight. I really didn't start coming around more until after…"

Stefan finally brought his gaze back to his older brother. "After what?"

Damon wasn't sure if Bonnie ever told Stefan this yet it was apparent she hadn't. Part of him didn't want to reveal this, but if they were going to start being honest with each other from here on out then Stefan needed to know.

"Bonnie accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills."

"What?!" Stefan's heart stopped and then started again only beating too fast he was beginning to feel light-headed. A cold sweat instantly popped out along the center of his back, under his pits, and across his hairline.

"Somehow she remained lucid enough to call for help," Damon continued wearily, the words getting trapped on the roof of his mouth. "Her world was upside down and she says she couldn't remember how many pills she had taken before she took another dose. They placed her in the psychiatric ward for a day."

Stefan wanted to sit down so he did. "I don't believe this. Bonnie would never do something like that. She's a doctor for goodness sake!"

"Well the evidence says otherwise. After that I couldn't just leave her alone like she was some stranger. So I came down here when I could, or I invited her to stay with me in New York. She started to get better. We talked. We hung out. We became friends and we tried not to cross any boundaries but it seemed…"

"Inevitable," Stefan finished on a long sigh. "A-are you in love with her?"

Damon thought of the question briefly before answering. "Yes."

Stefan took even longer to ask his next question—heart pounding. "Is she…is she in love with…you?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think she is?"

"I don't know, Stefan," Damon shifted his weight on his feet. The not knowing how Bonnie felt about him is what kept him living in fear for this long. "I've seen her when she was with you and I know how the two of you were. With me and her…well it wasn't exactly like that. I knew she held back for obvious reasons. She doesn't know I'm in love with her."

Stefan made eye contact with Damon. "So you've been harboring feelings for her but you have no idea how she feels about you?"

"Pretty much."

Stefan knew his brother and that was so unlike Damon. And then it dawned on him. Damon had had a plethora of "girlfriends", and one night stands, but he never seriously dated anyone. So that meant…Bonnie was the first woman he actually fell in love with.

That made acid churn in Stefan's belly. "If I never returned from the dead," he laughed dryly, "what would you have done?"

"I'd ask her to marry me in a heart beat."

Suddenly Stefan shot off from the couch, eyes lit. "And that's my problem! Not the fact that you love her, Bonnie could make any man fall in love with her. But how am I supposed to move forward with her when I now know that you love her and you wouldn't hesitate to marry her? How am I supposed to trust when she says out of her mouth that she loves me? Yes, we have history and we were husband and wife, but…now there's _you_. What am I supposed to do, Damon? Like you said we're brothers. What are we supposed to do?"

Damon couldn't answer because he honestly didn't know.

Stefan scrubbed a hand over his face wishing this day, this nightmare would end already. "It's funny because when I was in Montana I did meet someone. A nice, sweet uncomplicated woman. And when I got my memory back, for two seconds I didn't want to come home. Life on the reservation wasn't always easy, but it definitely wasn't this hard. But what I felt for that woman knowing I had a wife—or at least I thought I still had a wife—I felt like a bastard. And come to find out that Bonnie was getting it on with my brother the whole time…"

Damon wanted to correct him and say it wasn't the whole time, but Stefan kept talking.

"I honestly thought I was in the wrong. Maybe…maybe deep down I wanted things to fall apart to give me an excuse to go back to Montana. Maybe no matter what this was going to happen."

"So what are you trying to say? That before you came back you didn't want to be with Bonnie? That you want to be with this woman in Montana?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Stefan glared at him. "No, Damon that's not what I'm trying to say. What I'm trying to say is that I still feel loyalty to Bonnie. I can take what happened between you two, cut it up, and dissect it anyway I want, but its not going to change the way I feel about her. And that's what sickens me. I love her. You love her. But we both can't have her."

And that was the conundrum. Two men in love with the same woman. How many times in history had this story been told? Damon loved Bonnie yet he had to question if it was selfless, unconditional love that if she said to him explicitly she wanted to be with Stefan, could he let her go? He had to question was he strong enough to walk away and allow Bonnie and Stefan to find their way back to each other. Something's in life seemed to be predestined. Other things occurred due to plain dumb luck and chance.

What happened between him and Bonnie might seem like an anomaly. And as unconventional as their situation was it hadn't been enough to prevent him from falling for her.

Then there was his brother to consider. The only real family Damon had left. A bond had been established from the time Stefan learned to walk and followed Damon everywhere. They mourned their mother, was straightened out by their grandmother, hated their father, had always been there for one another through the years. They were similar and dissimilar at the same time. Could he honestly let Stefan go if Bonnie decided through and by some miracle that she wanted to be with him?

Damon wasn't sure. Deep down though he knew this decision wasn't about him.

"If Bonnie wants to work things out with you, I won't stand in the way. It's…it's you she loves. She could have stayed with me in New York after the truth came out, but she came back here for _you_. It might not look like she cares anything for you, Stefan, but she does."

As much as Stefan didn't want to hear this he stood on his feet and listened. "Just like that you'd be willing to give up the first woman you've ever loved?"

Damon nodded. He didn't trust his vocal cords to work properly.

Stefan smirked not buying his brother's saint act. "I'm not an idiot, Damon. I…appreciate you being there for Bonnie when she really needed someone. But I know you. I know your kind. If you want something you stop at nothing to get it. You've been that way since we were kids. Oh, sure it's nice of you to think you'd be able to walk away from Bonnie because you don't want to lose me as a brother. Yet at the end of the day there'd be nothing but resentment between us. And I'm sorry, brother but I can't let you or myself live like that. I don't want to live like that."

"What makes you think I do?" Damon asked with a hint of attitude that he tried to conceal. "You think I want to be in this position? In love with a woman that no matter what I do she'd never fully love me the way I love her? To know that perhaps every time we're together she's comparing me to my brother? You think I want to be in love with Bonnie knowing the history she shares with you? I didn't want to fall in love. I tried to fight it, I did, but I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough because she's everything I _need. _You think I want to be responsible for hurting you like this? I can admit I'm a pretty selfish bastard when I want to be, but I can't…I don't want to give her up, Stefan. I don't want to lose her, but I _know _I can't lose _you_."

The brothers merely stood and stared at everything except each other. The only noise to be heard in the room was the deafening silence.

"Well brother," Stefan began gravelly, "looks like we're at a stalemate. Bonnie's hurt and she's going to need someone around until she gets better. After that…" Stefan lifted his hands in the air. He began to head towards the staircase to go clean up their bedroom.

"Stefan?" Damon called. He didn't speak again until he had his brother's attention. "I haven't always been the brother to you I should have been, and I apologize for that. You deserved better from me."

"That's where you're wrong, Damon. You were the brother I deserved."

* * *

><p>The door to her hospital room opened. Bonnie sat up in bed trying her best not to jostle her heavily bandaged leg in the process. When her eyes landed on her visitor they widened suddenly as her mouth went dry.<p>

Her father, Thomas Bennett, an opposing man stood just inside of the archway. His dark rheumy eyes glossed over his only daughter's features. Bonnie couldn't recall the last time she saw or spoke to her father. It might have been before Fourth of July weekend where he grudgingly invited her to a cookout one of his co-workers was throwing. Bonnie had declined because Damon just so happened to whisk her away to Myrtle Beach to celebrate the holiday.

Bonnie never had the typical father-daughter relationship with her dad. They were roommates at best when she lived at home, and tolerated the others presence until Bonnie packed her bags and headed off to enshrine herself in the real world. When she got accept into a graduate program in France to achieve her Master's in Clinical Psychology, Thomas was outraged she felt it necessary to cross an entire ocean just to get a piece of paper.

It wasn't about getting a piece of paper as he so eloquently put it. It was about removing herself from her comfort zone and learning who she was instead of everyone telling her what her purpose was in life. Their relationship had been strained. Barely holding on by a thread at that point, and though Bonnie tried to keep in touch with Thomas, he was invariably too busy to have more than two-minute phone conversations with her. And it took him forever to respond to her emails. Bonnie simply gave up.

Her father was alive but he might as well have been dead from the way he treated her.

Clearing her throat and running a hand through her hair self-consciously, Bonnie finally broke the silence. "What are you doing here?"

Thomas Bennett finally strode across the room and stood at the foot of the bed. "Your friend Elena Gilbert called and told me you had an accident," he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You seem fine to me."

Bonnie looked away, her lips pursed. "Outside appearances can be deceiving."

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the room for a minute. "Your accident aside, how have you been? I heard that Stefan is back."

"Stefan has been alive these last two years. He's been home for almost three months."

Thomas never had one good thing to say about Stefan although he had no reason to not like him. But then again, Bonnie reminded herself her father didn't much like her either.

"Do you need anything?" Thomas asked, the question sounding foreign and misplaced.

Bonnie forced herself to make eye contact with her dad. "I needed a lot of things, but it's far too late for you to give them to me. Why are you here?" she repeated her earlier question.

"I'm here because I'm still your father."

"Really?"

"Bonnie, look I didn't come here to get into a fight with you. You're my kid and I have the right to know if you've been hurt. I came to see how you're doing and it's as simple as that."

"Well thank you for coming to check up on me. A little sad it took me being admitted to the hospital for you to remember you do have a daughter, and even live in the same city as her."

Thomas could say nothing in his defense. He switched his weight on his feet, his eyes darting at the various machines that outfitted the hospital bed; did every and anything to keep his dark brown orbs from landing on the person who was nearly the splitting image of his ex-wife. Although his actions belied the contrary he did love his daughter. Thomas felt it was far too late to rectify the damaged goods in their relationship, but he reasoned he needed to start somewhere.

"I'm going to go so you can get your rest. When are you being discharged?" he asked.

"Hopefully tomorrow."

"I'll give you a call at home, then. Take care, Bonnie."

The woman in question said nothing just watched her father turn his back on her and walk out of her life yet again.

Needless to say Bonnie had a fitful night of sleep. She tried to stay up and wait for Stefan to return. She wasn't sure when he did when she woke up the next morning and found him sitting in what had to have been the most uncomfortable fold out bed in history. Stefan's frame barely fit on the bed, but he tried to make due the best way he knew how.

Bonnie sat up and cleared her throat hoping the sound would be enough to wake him up.

It was.

His back was pissed off at him as well as his neck. Rubbing his shoulder and cricking his neck, Stefan slid to the edge of the fold out bed and looked at Bonnie. They merely stared at one another not sure exactly what to say or where to start. So Bonnie figured she break the crushing awkwardness.

"My dad stopped by last night."

Stefan nodded but didn't comment. He had always been cordial with Mr. Bennett the handful of times he had to socialize with the man. Nevertheless, he certainly never went out of his way to get close to Bonnie's father, and he was glad she never encouraged him to either.

"How's your leg?" Stefan asked.

"It's bothersome but I'll live."

More silence ensued.

"Did Damon stop by the house?" Bonnie figured she was wandering into dangerous territory, but Damon didn't come back by the hospital. She wanted to know what happened between the brothers although some vague part of her felt it wasn't any of her business.

Some unreadable emotion flickered on Stefan's face before he composed himself and nodded his head.

"Did you tell him to stop by?"

Bonnie tried not to bristle from the undercurrent of hostility she detected in Stefan's voice. "You two needed to talk, Stefan."

"Yeah well that's really not for you to decide." Pause. "I learned more than I cared to know. Look," he punctually got to his feet. "I'm going to go find your doctor and find out when you're being discharged."

He was gone faster than Bonnie could get her thoughts together. Note to self don't bring up Damon to Stefan ever again. Got it.

When Stefan came back Dr. Patel was following behind him along with a nurse. Bonnie smiled at the doctor impressed she could make a pair of unflattering scrubs look like she was wearing an evening gown.

"How are you feeling this morning, Bonnie?" Dr. Patel asked as she removed her stethoscope from around her neck to check Bonnie's vitals.

"I feel fine. I'm just anxious to get home."

Dr. Patel glanced briefly at Stefan and offered Bonnie a smile.

Stefan fidgeted on his feet. He knew he narrowly escaped being arrested yesterday, and if he had to prove what a doting spouse he was to get out of this place then he'd do it. He didn't make any physical contact with Bonnie, but he moved closer to the bed and watched as Dr. Patel did her assessments, testing Bonnie's range of motion in her leg.

"On a scale of one to ten how's your pain?"

Bonnie thought for a moment. "It's probably at a seven."

"Do you think you can stand?"

Bonnie gritted her teeth as she, with the nurse's help, swung her injured leg over the edge of the bed. Pain shot up and got lodged in her jaw making it tenser than it presently was. The nurse placed a walker in front of Bonnie and directed her on where to place her hands so she could evenly distribute her weight and not lose her balance.

"Just take your time," Dr. Patel said soothingly.

Bonnie was not rail thin, but she wasn't obese for her height either, so having to rely strictly on her arms to pull herself up made her breath come out in quick pants, and she began to sweat. Shakily she got to her feet taking care not to place any weight on her injured limb.

Stefan watched her like a hawk. His arms instinctively ready to catch her in case she tipped over, but he'd have to go through the nurse to reach her.

"You're doing wonderful, Bonnie. Now I want you to take a few steps towards me."

Bonnie did as instructed her eyes going from the floor to Dr. Patel's hands. In five minutes she managed to walk all of three feet yet Bonnie felt as if she had walked a marathon.

"You can rest," Dr. Patel said and made some notations on Bonnie's chart. "You don't appear to have any signs of coming down with an infection. Temperature is good. Vitals are strong. I don't see any reason why you can't go home today. Let me get your discharge papers in order as well as some additional information on how to clean and dress your wound, and you should be ready to go no later than noon."

Bonnie smiled at least she hoped it was a smile displayed on her face and not a grimace. Noon was still four hours away.

Just then another person entered her room. It was Damon.

Bonnie was proud of herself for not immediately looking at Stefan but keeping her gaze locked on her doctor and the nurse who was clearly ogling Damon.

The bruises from his scuffle with Stefan were nearly invisible to the naked eye. Both of them looked much better than they had the day before, but other than some slight discoloration on his cheek and the bottom part of his jaw, Damon was immaculate.

He smirked charmingly at the doctor and nurse and said good morning to them. He merely nodded in Stefan's direction who looked extremely displeased. When Damon lowered his sharp gaze to Bonnie for a second he allowed himself to be open and show how relieved yet also sorry he had to see her this way.

"Ah…Dr. Patel is there anything I need to sign?" Stefan asked wanting to find a reason to leave the room.

"Actually, yes. You can come with me. Bonnie, I'll see you before you're officially discharged."

"Okay."

Bonnie watched as the room cleared. Watched as Stefan walked right past Damon as if he were vapor.

Damon said nothing at the obviously slight. Just withdrew a bouquet of calla lilies from behind his back, and walked them over to Bonnie.

"Thank you," Bonnie said reaching for the flowers. Once they were in her hand she inhaled their rich, fragrant smell before handing them back to Damon to arrange them however he liked.

Taking the seat next to her bed, Damon reached for her hand noting it was freezing. He never understood why hospitals always kept their temperatures right at arctic conditions. Perhaps for sanitation reasons, but it couldn't have been comfortable for the patients.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better. How are you? What happened yesterday?"

Damon sighed and rubbed her freezing hand between his slightly warmer ones. "We talked. We didn't trade blows. I told him about…the overdose."

Bonnie tried to pull her hand away but Damon wouldn't let her go. She had wanted to keep that a secret for a reason. For personal and also professional reasons. Bonnie didn't need anyone doubting her ability to be a good psychologist, and Damon promised he would keep that incident between the two of them. So much for that.

"Bonnie he needed to know the truth, the full truth. All of that happened during a dark period in your life, and Stefan needed to know how devastated you were with his supposed death."

"Was that all you guys talked about?"

"More words were exchanged, but it's not…we're just worried about you."

Bonnie suspected more was said and she knew both Salvatore's well enough to know they wouldn't break down and confess to her like she was a priest. As much as she wanted to know verbatim what had been discussed she'd just have to take the fact Damon and Stefan could stand to be in the same room with one another for five seconds, and leave it at that.

All night while she tried to rest Bonnie warred on what _her _next move would be. She couldn't do anything until she gained momentum back in her body obviously, but the second she was given a clean bill of health—what? Stefan was disgusted by her. Damon wanted to be with her. And all she wanted was to wave a little white flag in the air. This was worst than a child having to decide which parent he/she wanted to live with after their parents divorce. You pick a side and you're basically saying you don't love the one you didn't choose. And Bonnie didn't want to be in that position.

Damon kissing her knuckles recaptured her attention. "I have to head back to New York. If I could stay and play your nurse I would, but I doubt Stefan would appreciate me hanging around."

"No, I understand," Bonnie stared at the contrast in their skin tone mocha infused with white.

Growing up she never really had a preference. If a guy was cute he was cute didn't matter the race. Yet Stefan was her first interracial relationship and then Damon…maybe she had a preference after all. Brothers.

Bonnie shivered as shame rolled down her spine. "You've already done so much for me and I've taken up so much of your time…"

"Hey, I didn't mind and I wasn't complaining. I just want you to get strong. For me. And call me if you need anything. I'm going to be here for you no matter what, Bonnie."

Bonnie nodded. Words always sounded pretty to the ears but she knew Damon meant what he said. He always did.

They stared at each other wondering what came next. Damon pushed a few unruly strands of her hair behind her ear, and cupped her cheek. He was going to miss her, but he couldn't put his life on hold in New York anymore than he already had.

"I'll always be here for you," Damon said again and then kissed her forehead just as Stefan walked back into the room.

Bonnie gasped and leaned away from Damon as she pulled her hand from the one still holding on to her.

Stefan clenched his jaw and suppressed the urge to lose his shit. He glared at Damon who rose from the chair and passed his eyes over Bonnie.

When Damon reached the door and noticed that Stefan wasn't stepping out of the way, he pointedly looked at his brother.

"This goes without saying," Damon began, "but take care of her."

Stefan didn't reply but did move out of the way. Damon left.

Swallowing heavily Stefan walked back over to the fold out bed.

"Stefan…"

"I don't care, Bonnie so don't."

Snapping her jaws shut, Bonnie fell back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe she could induce an infection to extend her stay in the hospital.

No such luck. She was discharged at one-fifteen and with the nurse's help she was placed in the passenger seat of the Range Rover and Stefan drove them back home.

* * *

><p>This tension between them was nothing they had ever experienced. From the moment they met they had fallen in synchronicity. They seemed to be two sides of the same coin, cut from the same cloth, were one in the same, but this displacement was as foreign to them as attempting to learn another language.<p>

Stefan helped her inside the house carrying her over the threshold. It transported Bonnie back to when they first bought this house and he immediately flashed upstairs to the master bedroom to christen it.

However, instead of rushing up the stairs, Stefan deposited her on the couch. Bonnie hadn't been sure what state to expect the house to be in, but everything was spotless. Other than a few obviously missing pieces of furniture, personal mementos, and artifacts here and there, you'd never know he trashed the place.

Stefan worked quietly and efficiently. Taking her bag upstairs and dumping it in the closet, then coming back downstairs and helping Bonnie adjust the pillows to where she was comfortable.

"Do you want to watch TV, read, or just…?"

"I think it's time for my next pill."

Off again, Stefan retrieved her prescription package from the pharmacy and handed Bonnie the bottle. He went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water and passed it over.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"A little."

Bonnie wished he'd sit down and take a breather but he was determined to move around more than likely to avoid having to talk to her and face her for longer than a minute. Under much different circumstances his behavior would have been insulting but she knew this was hard for Stefan. Whatever was disclosed during his talk with Damon it apparently bothered him more than he expected. Coupled with the fact he felt responsible for her accident, and had to help take care of her when he rather be on the opposite side of the country, Bonnie certainly didn't want to be a bigger burden to Stefan than she already was.

When he returned he did so with a tray laden with soup, a small side salad, garlic bread, and a small portion of lasagna.

Bonnie's empty tummy roared to life. "Thank you."

Stefan nodded then got missing yet again. He didn't come back until he figured Bonnie was done. She was asleep and he watched her for a minute taking note of the lines and curves of her face. He had to fight against his urge to find his camera and take pictures of her. He tramped that down by bringing his attention to the tray and noticed she had eaten almost everything.

He whisked it away despising the fact he felt like a butler in his own home.

Bonnie didn't wake up until it was dark. Her leg was throbbing and though she was wearing a lose fitting pair of jogging pants the material still felt as if it weighed a ton on her wound. Clearing her throat, Bonnie attempted to call for Stefan yet he seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

He startled her.

"More medicine?" he questioned flatly.

Nodding once, Bonnie wondered if he'd ever say more than two words to her, and then just decided to leave it alone. The fact he was doing as much as he was spoke volumes.

Bonnie was tired of lying on the couch. She carefully swung one leg over the couch followed by the other. Reaching for her crutches which Stefan had left beside the couch at some point, Bonnie used them almost like the walker to push herself to her feet.

Stefan came out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of water his eyes wide for a moment. "What are you doing?"

"I want to go upstairs and take a bath."

"Bonnie…"

"I'll be fine. I'm going to have to learn to move around on my own."

That sentence had a chilling effect that Bonnie swore she heard a bell toll somewhere. A death toll and something certainly was dead.

Stefan didn't move a muscle as he saw Bonnie make her way towards the staircase. She paused at the bottom step and then looked up. There was no way she'd be able to make it up them without help. Sighing, Stefan took the crutches from her, and swung her back into his arms.

He used his foot to push their bedroom door open. Bonnie noticed one of the posts to their four poster bed was broken. She stared at Stefan questioningly but chose not to interrogate him about it.

They entered the bathroom and Stefan placed Bonnie on the edge of the garden tub. The nurse had instructed them how Bonnie should wash herself to make sure her wound didn't get infected. This was going to be tricky. She could keep her leg elevated, but she could only put so much water in the tub.

"I can do it," Bonnie told Stefan when he tried to fill the tub with water. "If I need help I'll call you."

Saying nothing, Stefan left the bathroom but kept the door ajar so he could hear her if she did need him.

Disrobing took more than she would have liked it to take, but Bonnie repeatedly said the word _patience _in her head. When the tub was filled with what she hoped was enough water, Bonnie stood up to step in, clutching on to the wall and the edge of the tub for dear life.

Stefan unexpectedly came back into the bathroom and caught her bent over, ass in the air. He had to blink or remind himself to blink.

Bonnie caught him gawking in the reflection of the mirror and lost her footing. She dropped unceremoniously to the tub.

"_Ouch!_" Bonnie groaned.

Stefan came over and had to suppress the urge to laugh because Bonnie was slumped against the tub as if she had one too many cocktails. She glared at him.

"This is not funny."

"You're right, it's not. Here," he reached for her arm and pulled her to a more upright position. He couldn't help where his eyes landed and they landed on all of his favorite parts of Bonnie. Stefan cleared his throat and tried to look away. "I brought up your crutches. I might have to get you a life alert bracelet."

Bonnie tried to glower at him but only ended up laughing. Stefan laughed, too and things almost felt normal.

Until he remembered he was pissed and hurt. He got up to leave, but Bonnie stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

"Stefan…?"

"Bonnie…it's been a long exhausting two days and I simply don't have it in me to talk about anything."

"I know, but…I want you to know that I appreciate you being here, but I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to stay…not just to help me, but stay period."

He looked at her. "I'm not staying. Once you're mobile I'm moving into the boardinghouse. Your accident hasn't changed anything between us. It's still over."

Bonnie's chin quivered and her eyes immediately filled with tears, but she nodded nonetheless. When Stefan moved to leave she didn't stop him.

Chapter end.

**A/N: We're getting closer to the end. The next chapter will feature more Bamon, and I'm still not sure exactly how this will all end, so again I'm not making any promises that there will be a definitive endgame in this story. Thank you, guys for reading and leaving me your thoughts. Love you! **


	13. The Next Step

**A/N: Trying to edit this and watch Supernatural at the same time is probably not a good idea. This chapter is for xthesebonesx, love you chica. Enjoy everyone!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Two Months Later…**

Bonnie entered Café Mood in a flourish nearly colliding shoulders with an elderly gentleman who had been moving at a sloth's pace. A snail unfortunately moved a little faster than him. Smiling contritely to quell the cross look that made the deep lines and wrinkles on his face even more prominent, Bonnie held the door open for the man and muttered a quiet sorry.

A rush of cold air fondled her backside. Wearing a skirt in December with a pea coat to act as her only buffer hadn't been the right decision. But lately, Bonnie had been questioning all of her decisions. Crossing over the marble checkered floor, Bonnie spotted Elena sitting in the back next to a bank of windows.

Dumping her purse in the empty chair, and unbuttoning her coat, Bonnie sat down and huffed. "Sorry, I'm late. I've been late all day."

Elena sat her cup down on the saucer and stared at her friend, eyebrow raised. "It's okay. I haven't been here long."

Bonnie nodded and then fidgeted with draping her coat on the back of her chair.

While Bonnie was distracted doing that, there were several things the pediatrician noticed. She noticed that Bonnie was wearing more makeup than usual in a poor effort to conceal the dark circles under her eyes. And Bonnie's eyes had always been a vibrant shade of green often reminding Elena of jewels, but now they appeared dead—sad. Though Bonnie was dressed fashionably in a heather gray v-neck cashmere sweater with leather patches on the elbows, knee-length skirt that she matched with her drool worthy Kate Spade boots, Elena couldn't help but feel that Bonnie was putting on a façade.

She knew all about Stefan moving out and then subsequently disappearing. Again. Bonnie had called her frantically one day saying she had stopped by the boardinghouse everyday for a week to deliver his mail since he hadn't dropped by their home to retrieve it. All seven times Stefan never answered the door, and when she called, his number had been disconnected.

Bonnie was trying not to let the pain show, but she was frazzled, falling apart at the seams. Elena had suggested, although tentatively, that Bonnie reach out to Damon thinking he might know where his brother was, but Bonnie immediately shot that down and staunchly told Elena:

"I can't keep leaning on him. I have to get through _this _on my own."

So Elena left it alone no longer wanting to insert herself in the middle of it. Yet she couldn't help worrying about her best friend because Bonnie hardly ever let anything get to her. Not to say she didn't have problems that were staggering and didn't make her question her faith and ability in herself. She was human after all, but there was only so much a human could take before they broke down or worse—snapped.

And Bonnie, in Elena's honest opinion looked ready to detonate.

Finally settled, Bonnie brought her orbs to Elena and offered her a tremulous smile. She picked up the small menu and looked through the choices although Bonnie already knew what she was going to order. She had been a patron of this café since it opened its doors in 2009. She just needed something to do with her hands so they wouldn't shake.

"So what's new with you?" Bonnie asked casually.

Elena swirled her spoon around in the ceramic tea cup. "Elijah has been calling and texting me. He's hoping we might be able to rekindle our summer romance."

Bonnie smiled and sat the menu down and then rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. Elena watched her curiously before taking a sip of her tea.

"I don't know who falls in love more: Elijah Mikaelson or Taylor Swift," Bonnie said dryly.

Elena nearly spat her tea out. She nodded her head in agreement. "Well then I guess it's a good thing Elijah is one of the leading psychiatrists in the world, and not a rock star. It would be embarrassing as hell to have to listen to him try to slut-shame me."

"Why did you two break up anyways?"

"We weren't exactly together…in the traditional sense," Elena shrugged. "He wanted a commitment, but I always got the sense he was trying to turn me into his first wife Tatia. Either accept me for who I am or leave me alone. That's my new dating philosophy."

A waiter came over to the table and Bonnie quickly shot out her order.

"Bonnie?" Elena didn't continue until Bonnie was looking at her. "How are you doing? You know you can talk to me."

Bonnie quickly shook her head and darted her eyes away or they would immediately start filling with tears. Loneliness had become her companion when she thought Stefan had died. This time around it was different because she knew he was alive and purposely got missing in the world with no way for her to contact him. It was like he was yelling "Fuck You!" from the highest mountain top. Added in the fact that she was making herself stay away from Damon as not to drag him back into her bullshit, Bonnie never felt this lost before.

She jumped when she felt Elena's warm hand on her slightly frigid one. "I'm doing okay," Bonnie said. "I can't…this is something I've been dealing with for too long and I just need a break, Elena. A break from feeling like hell. I'm going on a trip," Bonnie admitted brightly.

"That's good. Where are you going?"

"Believe it or not I'm flying out to London to see Elijah's brother Klaus. He's a colleague doing this case study on people suffering from mysophobia. You know that's the fear of…"

"Germs," Elena concluded.

"Right," Bonnie smiled sheepishly. "You are a medical doctor, too. But he thinks I can add something more…compelling to his study. So we'll see."

"Mm-hmm. How long are you going to be gone?"

"Up until the New Year. I'm spending Christmas there."

Elena's eyes widened considerably. Bonnie had spent Thanksgiving with her and Jeremy and his girlfriend Anna, and she naturally assumed that Bonnie would be spending _the _major holiday with them as well.

"Well, I'm happy that you'll be getting out of the country. A change in scenery should be good for you, Bonnie. And if you happen to run into Prince Harry can you give him my number?"

The old friends shared a laugh. Then things were quiet for a moment.

"I don't think he's coming back and…I'm…I think I'd be okay with that," Bonnie divulged suddenly.

Elena stared at her skeptically.

"As long as he's safe and happy I can't really ask for anymore than that, right?"

Elena nodded but otherwise said nothing. She knew this was Bonnie's way of trying to talk herself through something so she'd let her have the floor, purge herself, get it all out so she could move on with the next phase of her life. Watching her best friend go through heartache not once but twice was nearly enough to scare Elena into spinsterhood. She enjoyed being single but she did miss the comfort of being with someone who loved and accepted her, quirks and all. But losing that love could turn the strongest person into the most piteous individual in the world.

"We just don't fit anymore," Bonnie muttered hardly convincing herself of that. "I mean when he came back he was like the man I fell in love with in Paris, but he wasn't…"

"Damon," Elena supplied.

Something in Bonnie's eyes flashed and then immediately dimmed. "I think I want to cut my hair."

What an abrupt change in subject, Elena thought, but she wasn't interested in talking about hair trends. "You're not the same person you were when you met Stefan. You were young and it was your first time being in love. He seemed perfect and then he was gone. Enter Damon into the picture and he's…"

Bonnie couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corner of her lips. "A Tsunami, a tidal wave. We had always been cordial with one another, but it was the formal kind of cordial like: the only thing we seemed to have in common is Stefan so let's just get along."

"But then he became more to you than being Stefan's brother."

"What are you trying to get at, Elena?"

"All I'm trying to get at is what you truly feel for Damon. I mean, I was shocked when you told me the truth, but I could totally see you falling for him. But you never mentioned what you feel for him."

Thankfully Bonnie's salad and soup arrived, interrupting Elena's inquisition. Bonnie arranged everything the way she wanted it to be on the table, and couldn't escape feeling as if she were exhibiting a mild case of OCD.

"Do you love him, Bonnie?" Elena asked point blank.

With her fork poised in her hand, Bonnie groaned. "You can't be in love with two people at the same time. That's cheating the system."

"Show me where it says that in the rule book. Oh sure you can't be _married _to two people simultaneously, but if you want my honest opinion I think every woman needs at least two husbands," Elena grinned.

Bonnie shook her head trying to stifle her laughter, but then let it out because she honestly couldn't remember the last time she smiled or laughed about anything.

"You're forgetting one thing though," Bonnie cautioned. "You shouldn't fall in love with brothers."

The cheerfulness deflated out of Elena. "Yeah there is that…but you still haven't answered my question."

Sighing, Bonnie said, "If I am…he should be the first to know."

Sounded odd but strangely made sense. Elena sat back against her chair and watched Bonnie toss spinach leaves around with her fork.

"All right, fair enough. _If _you are and I _think _you are you should at least tell Damon. After everything the two of you have been through he at least deserves to know that much."

"Why?" Bonnie whined. "What good is it going to do?"

"So you've made your decision, then?" Elena challenged.

Silence ensued.

"Drink your tea," Bonnie ordered.

* * *

><p><strong>Wilsall, Montana<strong>

Being outdoors had been as much a part of his life as photography. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the clean mountain air, Stefan pushed it through his lungs and then exhaled vapor from his mouth. The air was frigid, but his down parka kept him warm enough. Life here was so much different from life on the east coast, life in the south. And this was the change he needed in order to get his house and priorities in order.

He honestly didn't think leaving his home, leaving Bonnie and his brother behind would be difficult. Yet it was. Randomly his mind would revisit that day standing in the living room as Bonnie kept her distance and watched with red-rimmed and teary eyes as he took the key to their home off the chain and placed it on the table.

Bonnie had bit her lips and lowered her eyes unable to witness the fact that he was walking away from everything, but he had to. Not because he wanted to but she, Damon, and yes he needed to figure out where to go from here. And they couldn't accomplish that if they were all staring each other in the face—granted Damon had returned to New York. Stefan had braced himself for Bonnie's pleading, but surprisingly she said not a word. That kind of infuriated him a little that she wasn't going to fight him or convince him to stay, but figured she already laid her cards out on the table. He was the one who was folding.

He had stared at her, marking everything he loved about her into memory. But this wasn't the way he wanted to remember her. They were supposed to grow old together and then be placed into a nursing home and die in the same room. That was the plan. The plan had been blown to shit and now Stefan felt homeless. He had nowhere to go except for the only place that was familiar to him now.

"I'll call you just to make sure you're doing okay," he had said.

Bonnie nodded but said nothing. She finally did make eye contact with him again. Stefan had to literally bite his tongue to keep himself from saying that he loved her. Time had run out. Her recovery after the accident had been nothing short of miraculous because a week later Bonnie was able to move around without the use of her crutches, and could add pressure to her leg without it bothering her that much.

His fingertips tingled as he remembered touching her butter soft skin as he helped dress her wound. The first night they changed the gauze bandages, Stefan was unsure of what to expect. Something grotesque and straight out of a horror movie, but instead his eyes was greeted to an inch and a half long laceration that looked not nearly as painful as he imagined it might be. The skin around it had turned pink and already it was scabbing over. There was some dried blood but not a lot. Most of the pain Bonnie felt was subcutaneous.

Stefan shook away the memory of that night and the following seven nights. While Bonnie recovered, he packed and moved his things to the boardinghouse. After Dr. Patel examined her and said Bonnie could do everything outside of rollerblading and sumo wrestling, Stefan figured it was time for him to officially leave.

The first night at the boardinghouse had been, well, lonely. The house was too big for just one person and though he kept his goings contained to the kitchen, living room, library, and his old bedroom the silence alone nearly made him check into a hotel. There was no warmth there, no life, just a mausoleum of sorts.

His pride wouldn't allow him to tuck tail and return back to the townhome he shared with Bonnie, so Stefan went with his next option. He booked himself a one way trip ticket to Montana.

The Trueblood's had been surprised yet happy to see him. They didn't ask questions. Just easily welcomed him back into their home. But in the gazes the couple exchanged to which Stefan caught each one he knew they were having a silent conversation about his current state of mind.

They had their reasons to worry but at the same time they didn't. He wasn't sure if he was here to stay, but he was here to find himself—again.

"Most of the mysterious of the world can be found in a woman."

Startled, Stefan turned around and faced Elan. Elan Trueblood was forty-five years old, had a patient but firm temperament, and could read a person's soul like tea leaves in the bottom of a cup.

"What are you doing here, Stefan?" Elan asked outright.

Licking his dry lips Stefan hunched his shoulders before slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. "The life I had with my wife is over."

Elan studied Stefan for a moment. "Is it over because you no longer fit together? Or is it over because you think your heart belongs to another?"

So his clandestine infatuation with Leah Clearwater wasn't exactly a secret. Hmm, Stefan thought.

"It's over because _her_ heart belongs to another."

"You know this for certain?"

Stefan hesitated with his answer. Elan took that and capitalized on. "Problems don't leave because you run. A man faces his mountain head on and he doesn't allow anything to drive him off course. You're here not to find yourself but to make trouble."

"Elan…"

The man in question held up a hand. "There have been many in your shoes, Stefan. Men who chose the wrong course in life because at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. You cannot make promises to one when you've made them to another. And you will learn that, too. You will fight it, but you will see, my friend, certain things in life cannot be made of non-effect."

Stefan had no idea what the hell Elan was talking about. Yet he respected him because he was one of the Elders, and what they said was law.

Elan walked away leaving Stefan with his thoughts again. Hearing those words didn't make him feel better. Elan didn't know the situation so he wasn't exactly in the best position to judge, and even if he did know, Stefan was fairly positive it wouldn't change Elan's views. Marriage was sacred here. Binding. Incorruptible. A man lived on the promises he made and if he broke them he was lower than a snake.

And just when Stefan thought he would be alone with his thoughts again, that's when he saw her. Russet skin, pale green eyes, plump lips, lean stature. His friend.

"Stefan…my grandmother told me you were back."

"And you didn't believe her?" he added a smile.

Leah smiled back and pushed her long ink-black hair behind her pierced ear. "My grandmother is senile and likes to gossip, but for once she was telling the truth." Pause. "I've missed you."

Stefan was waiting. Waiting for that kicked in the gut feeling. He felt a flutter, a stirring somewhere deep in his heart but it was being restrained. Blocked.

"I missed you as well," and that was the truth yet the words still sounded hollow to his ears.

The smile dampened on Leah's face just a little. Like Elan she was highly perceptive when it came to people.

"Will I see you tonight at the bonfire?" Leah asked.

"Only if you save me a seat."

* * *

><p><strong>Manhattan, New York<strong>

The sound of keys hitting the lock and opening the door shattered the eerie silence of his apartment. Flicking on the light with his elbow and closing the door with the back of his boot, Damon dropped his duffel bag, and then shrugged out of his long wool coat. He hated cold weather with a passion.

He should have stayed in Hawaii.

Damon never thought he'd live to say that he was glad he had such a demanding job, but he did. For starters it kept him busy, mixing, mingling and bringing his A-game every time he sat down with a prospective client to talk numbers. What should have been a painfully mundane existence by this point was the one thing keeping him sane. If he thought about anything else or _anyone _else, Damon was liable to lose his shit. His constant disappearances from work had already done a tiny bit of damage to his professional reputation, and he had worked overtime both literally and figuratively to reclaim the title as the prince of New York finance.

Saltzman Enterprises had just closed their books and they were operating in the black. Christmas bonuses had been passed around earlier than anticipated, and the eggnog at his office party had been spiked with the _real _good stuff. He was officially out of the office until January 2nd and with no immediate plans in the future, Damon could now…

Sulk.

He hung up his coat in the closet adjacent from the door and merely pushed his duffel to the side with his foot. Taking a few steps into the foyer he adjusted the temperature and rubbed his hands together.

The blinds had been left partially open and Damon could see into the high-rise next to his. Several of the residents had decorated their living room windows with white icicle lights, garlands, holly berries, and faux snow. Christmas was a commercialized holiday to Damon. He usually spent it with Stefan and whatever model/actress/waitress he was dating at the time drinking champagne and getting caught up on ESPN.

Last year and the year before had been different. Damon balled his hands into fists to feel the pinch of his nails digging into his palms as a distraction. He had heard some therapist from somewhere say to replace negative or painful thoughts with more pleasant and positive ones. He essentially was doing the reverse, taking pleasant and pleasure-filled thoughts and substituting it for something negative.

Like pain. The kind a parent would experience walking into their infant's room to find the baby missing, or being told a love one had months to live, or…

Losing contact with your last remaining family member.

Damon opened up his stainless steel refrigerator and peered in. Everything was organized, drinks lined up like a phalanx of soldiers all compliments of the maid service he had on retainer. He pulled out a Corona and decided against eating the fully prepared dish that was waiting to be nuked. Instead Damon had a taste for Polynesian.

Putting in his order for delivery, and after draining one beer, Damon crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his sweater off and then the plain white T-shirt underneath. He tossed both over his shoulder as he made his way to his bedroom while he unbuckled his belt.

A hot shower would do him some good and it would hopefully ease the tension from his muscles.

Ever since he told Stefan the full truth of what happened while he had been AWOL and the feelings he developed for Bonnie, Damon figured he should have felt a mountain of relief, instead he felt nothing but hell. His brother, his flesh and blood hated him—probably wished him dead—no he _had _wished him dead. And in a way Stefan had gotten his wish.

Bonnie?

Damon hadn't heard from her since Thanksgiving. She called to wish him a happy one but there had been nothing happy about it. Neither one of them talked about Stefan, tried to sound upbeat but it had been more than apparent they were struggling. Struggling with moving on and accepting the fact that they both lost Stefan all over again. And it just might be permanent this time. But hearing her voice had been a double-edged sword. It made his heart beat faster in excitement and in dread.

Phone calls would be all they would share and then…after a few months there'd be nothing.

In time Damon was sure that Stefan would come around. For now he'd give his little brother space, and he'd do the same where Bonnie was concerned although fighting the urge to hop on a plane or drive to Mystic Falls was a habit that wasn't easily kicked.

He missed her. Every single part of him did. From his bones, to his blood, to his soul he missed that fucking woman with every fiber of his being. Damon could curse the fact that each minute he lived was a minute spent in agony, but he took his despair over the situation and put it to use. He had gotten lazy with his exercise regiment and called up his personal trainer who was more than happy to kick his ass from one end of the gym to the other for two hours three days a week. He channeled his aggression in the boardroom by whipping his poorly performing staff into the best damn department at Saltzman Enterprises.

However his love life was as deficient and bankrupt as the IMF.

Immersing himself under the spray of water, Damon closed his eyes and tried to envision the last woman he slept with. It might have been that French model he picked up at the 40/40 Club, but he wasn't certain. How many women had he pursued to erase Bonnie from his mind? Damon lost count. But he could say there hadn't been anyone—truly who could come close to replacing her.

By the time he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel low around his hips, his doorbell sounded. Quickly donning a robe, Damon paraded thru the living room and opened up the door.

For a second he had a thought that Bonnie or Stefan might be standing on the other side. It wasn't. Just the delivery man reading off his order and then waiting impatiently for his tip.

Eating alone once again. The story of his fucking life. Damon sat down on the couch, clicked on the tube and wished it was New Year's already.

* * *

><p>Laughter, the boisterous kind went all the way up to the ceiling of the longue nearly shaking the rafters loose. Traditional tribal music filled in the empty spaces of air, but was barely heard over the milling crowd of laborers who had just finished working long hours at the coal mine.<p>

Stefan stood off to the side taking in everything with his bluish-gray eyes. He smiled when someone would walk past him, but he didn't move from his spot. He was waiting for Leah to return with two drinks she was adamant that she pay for.

He easily spotted her in the crowd and noticed that Leah made several heads turn appreciatively. His smile grew in increments the closer she got and the minute she was standing in front of him holding out a beer, Stefan felt like he could finally relax.

"Thank you," he said and took a greedy sip.

"You're welcome." Leah followed suit keeping her aquamarine eyes on him.

Since his return to Montana two months prior they had tip-toed around one another, neither one wanting to make the first move. Stefan finally did and asked Leah out on a date. Unfortunately their first date had been their only date. Leah's ailing grandmother required more of her attention, and she had only been able to meet with Stefan for seconds at a time.

So Stefan guessed he could argue this was their second date, and that didn't make him exempt from experiencing first date jitters.

Suffice to say his game was weak. Stefan couldn't help feeling out of his element just a little. Culture on the reservation was much different than the world he had grown up in, and Stefan had to be careful not to step on any toes or insult anyone's heritage by being imprudent, or living up to a rightfully earned stereotype.

"So are you planning on standing in this corner all night?" teased Leah.

"Maybe. It would be a lot more fun if you joined me."

But Leah was already shaking her head. "No, I wanted to come out tonight and dance, laugh, have a good time. If you need some persuasion I'm sure I can think of something."

Stefan's lips twitched. "Oh, really and how exactly do you plan to persuade me? I can be stubborn."

"I've noticed that."

"I do occasionally like to get my way."

"I know that, too."

"So, Miss Clearwater…how are you going to get my butt from here to there?" Stefan pointed at the makeshift dance floor.

Leah said nothing, merely leaned forward and then pressed her full lips against Stefan's. He was taken aback because he never thought she'd kiss him first or that she would do so in public. Perhaps he was being paranoid but it seemed like the noise of the crowd dimmed a bit and all eyes were boldly or surreptitiously on them. Yet Stefan tried to push it all to the back of his mind as he carefully wrapped his arms around Leah and then loosen his jaw.

Their kiss was simple, exploratory, the kind you remembered but only for a little while. Her lips were soft and playful, but there hadn't been any exchange of tongue much to his disappointment.

But while they were kissing Stefan tried so hard not to think about Bonnie. Something uncomfortable churned inside of him as he began to picture her face, and he had to literally glue his feet to the floor to keep from jerking away from Leah.

Leah pulled back and then smiled, looking triumphant. "Move your ass to the dance floor."

Stefan laughed—nervously—took Leah by the hand and led her out to the floor. If he was really ready to move on then he needed his mind to participate in the relocation.

* * *

><p><strong>Manhattan, New York<strong>

Day one of his vacation Damon had spent in bed. Not because he wanted to catch up on his beauty rest, but because there hadn't been anything else he wanted to do. He hated dealing with traffic, crowds, and snow all of the things New York was notorious for, and he just wanted one day to be absolutely and irrevocably lazy.

On his second day, when taking his trash to the chute located on the end of the hall, he ran into one his neighbors. The man must have worked as a journalist or a lawyer because he kept asking Damon too many personal questions as a form of "small-talk". That sadly had been the highlight of his afternoon.

On the third day, Damon finally left his apartment to get some fresh air and went to the Guggenheim Museum to infuse some culture into his life. Several women nonchalantly and conspicuously had strolled up to him to get his opinion on a particular painting or sculpture. Damon didn't know that much about art other than what he liked, but he could fake the funk when necessary. Quite a few business cards found their way tucked into the pocket of his overcoat by the time he left.

On day four, Damon sat at the desk in his office contemplating ordering porn. He was bored out of his mind. He should have known not having a sleuth of male friends at his disposal would come back to bite him in the ass. Other than colleagues and associates at work he had racked up over the years, Damon's social circle was pretty bleak.

With Christmas just three days away he knew catching a flight to some exotic location would be astronomical, but what was the alternative? He could take Caroline up on her offer to join her and her fiancé for Christmas dinner, but he didn't want to impose.

And wouldn't that make you a loser? Spending the holiday with your assistant because she knew you didn't have plans? Damon thought.

It would take him no time to call up a few loose associates and have his condo rocking. If only he _could_ put the effort into it. That would mean food and alcohol would have to be ordered, the apartment decorated and he didn't even have the foresight nor the inclination to buy a tree. Nope, already he was giving himself a headache for a completely hypothetical situation that wouldn't come to fruition.

Damon was just going to fester in his apartment, drink, and watch porn.

The doorbell chose that precise moment to sound. The unexpected noise startled him and Damon quickly shutdown his system and made his way to the front door. He should probably just ignore it. It might be someone trying to sell Katydids. Or worst, carolers, but he doubted that. You were liable to get shot for bursting out into song without warning in New York.

Damon looked through the peephole and then everything stopped. His hand was opening the door but he didn't recall his brain sending out that message for that particular action. But the door was opening, air was rushing in along with the scent of her perfume, and then his eyes were staring at her.

He was suspended like a fetus in amniotic fluid. There was a buzz going off in his ears coupled with the sound of his furiously pounding heart. She couldn't be here. This had to be a doppelganger because she was supposed to be over seven hundred miles away in Virginia.

Damon was stunned.

The last time he saw her she had been laying in the middle of a hospital bed that dwarfed her size. Now here she was on both legs staring at him just as pensively—and he was certain—nervously like she was expecting him to slam the door in her face.

"Bonnie?"

He couldn't relax until she started speaking but she was too busy nibbling on her bottom lip to be of much help to his reason.

"Hi," her voice came out several octaves too high, but it was music to his ears.

He was telling himself to respond but Damon was inexplicably unable to move or communicate. He was arrested. His chest rose and fell heavily behind the soft cotton of his sweater. His nostrils flared.

Bonnie watched as the color rose to his cheeks while his cyan eyes refused to budge from hers. Damon's gaze alone had always been powerful enough to singe the skin off a person's bones, but the wattage had gone higher, burned brighter. He wasn't just looking at her as if picturing her naked, but he was gazing at her as if he were seeing directly into the luminescence of her soul. Bonnie couldn't have felt more stripped. There wasn't anything she could hide behind because Damon's eyes were sure to find her.

This made Bonnie two parts thrilled and several parts petrified.

She was already anxious enough about showing up here unannounced. It had occurred to Bonnie several times to at least find out what Damon's plans were for Christmas before barging in on him. If she knew his habits like she had come to know them she suspected he wouldn't be spending the holiday or ringing in the New Year alone.

"Surprise," Bonnie said sheepishly. "I know this is out of the blue but…"

She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Bonnie was pulled into Damon's chest, her feet cleared the floor. She laughed a little before wrapping her arms around him as best she could, but it was a little impossible considering they were pinned to her sides. He tucked his head in the nook between her shoulder and neck, and inhaled her scent.

When Damon released her, he cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip. "I don't care why you're here, I'm just glad you are."

Bonnie smiled at him coyly and sighed in relief. She had passed one hurdle. Wordlessly Damon ushered her inside of his apartment after he noticed she hadn't brought any luggage with her. A million questions zapped around in his mind. Was she here alone? Where was she staying? Where was Stefan? How long would she be in New York? What did her arrival on his doorstep _really _symbolize?

Everything about Damon's condo was exactly the way Bonnie remembered it, but it had been tarnished a little because of the fight that broke out between he and Stefan. Bonnie caught her eyes lingering on the dining area but then she jumped when Damon touched her elbow.

"Let me take your coat," his said gravelly.

Bonnie shrugged it off and handed it over. Damon's eyes gave her a quick once over liking the fact she was wearing her hip and booty hugging Juicy Couture Jeans and a fitted black Henley shirt. He appeared again in front of her before she had the chance to take a seat on his leather sectional.

For some reason they couldn't stop staring at each other. Bonnie felt her eyes were too wide like she was trying to see into the future. The palms of her hands were turning clammy and they were beginning to burn—itch and she recognized that as a sign. She wanted to touch Damon but she didn't trust herself to go there.

The hug had been enough. For now.

Bonnie helped herself to a seat and Damon joined her. He realized he was being a bad host. He hadn't offered her anything to drink or eat, but if Bonnie was feeling a tenth of what he was feeling, her stomach was probably in knots.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here," Bonnie began. Damon nodded. "My plane landed at LaGuardia and I was supposed to catch a flight to London, and then I just stopped right there in the airport and I was like…I don't want to go to London. I don't want to spend Christmas with a man that I hardly know other than professionally. I don't want to bring in the New Year with a group of strangers. I want to be with my family."

Damon gulped despite the dryness overtaking his mouth. "Stefan?" he asked.

"Gone," Bonnie explained simply. "He moved out and now…I don't know where he is."

Damon's joy about Bonnie being here slid into anger. Yet that anger shifted once Bonnie grabbed his hands. She shifted on the couch until she could look at him head-on.

"I know what you're thinking that I'm only here because Stefan is missing or whatever…but it's not the reason. I've missed you, Damon. And there's no reason why the two of us should be alone for Christmas or New Years."

"So you're here to keep me company?"

"Only if you want me to. I have a suite at The W Hotel…"

"Cancel it."

Bonnie blinked at him.

"Cancel it. You don't need to stay at some overpriced hotel when I have a guest bedroom right here. I don't want you traveling around the city alone, especially not during this time of year."

Bonnie pursed her lips. She might not have grown up on the gritty streets of some urban city, but she knew how to take care of herself.

Damon returned her perturbed look with one of his own. If he had his way Bonnie wouldn't be returning back to Mystic Falls period. She'd make her home with him right here in the city that never sleeps. And again, if he had his way neither one of them would be getting much sleep.

"Fine," Bonnie relented. "You win."

"You're acting like this was a fight to begin with," Damon snorted which earned him a playful slap to his arm.

As happy as he was that she was here there was a lot Damon wanted to know. He wanted to know how long Stefan had been gone, when the last Bonnie heard from him, and if being here with him she was making her choice.

"When was the last time you saw or spoke to Stefan?" he decided to go with a safe question first.

Bonnie rubbed her hands together. "He moved out two weeks after I got better. He called once and that was it. You haven't hear from him?"

Damon shook his head. Naturally he was worried about his little brother, yet Stefan had a history of taking off, getting lost in the world as a way to escape the horrors of their past. So for now he'd hold off on calling the search party.

"How long are you staying?" Damon continued with his questioning.

"Until the third of January. My practice pretty much runs itself and I Skype with a few of my patients so I don't have to go in everyday."

"You can stay longer, hell you can move here."

"One step at a time."

"Seriously, though Bonnie what does you being here in New York with _me _mean? I was willing to fill whatever role you needed me to fill in the past, but you know things between us have to change."

Finally breaking eye contact, Bonnie stared at her manicured nails. "I know…I can't…promise anything…Stefan could come back…"

"So you're hinging everything on that?" his question came out more sharply than intended.

Bonnie sniffled. She wasn't one of those females who burst out into tears when faced with a difficult opposition. She didn't want to make a promise she couldn't keep. This was her way of sparing Damon from expecting more from her than she was sure she could risk giving.

"I'm not hinging everything on that," Bonnie argued. "I'm trying in my own way to just move on. I wanted to spend this time with you, but now I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

The turn of conversation happened so fast that it took a second for Damon to realize that Bonnie had bolted off the couch and was pulling her coat out of the closet. He nearly ran his knee into the end table to reach her.

"Bonnie…wait…I shouldn't be pressuring you into anything. Please," he reached for her coat and pried it out of her hands. "It's just you and me. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We're gonna have a rockin' Christmas," Damon leered.

Bonnie laughed and then looked back into his living room. "How are we going to do that without a Christmas tree or decorations?"

"We don't need any of that."

"So says the Grinch."

Damon sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, fine," he handed Bonnie her coat back. "We're going to find a tree, but don't be mad at me if we only find something that a feather would tip over."

Hours later they returned with Bonnie's luggage, several shopping bags filled with a whole bunch of Christmas shit Damon would probably trash later on, and an artificial tree. Bonnie had wanted a real one but since Damon had the green thumb of the grim reaper—even his fake plants died somehow—they came to a reluctant agreement to buy a tree that came in a box.

Decorating had carried over well into the night and once they were done between shipping wine, hurling out mildly insulting jokes at each other, they sat down to admire the tree and its twinkling lights and multi-colored ornaments.

Bonnie tried to stifle her yawn. Damon looked at her askance and took the forgotten wineglass out of her hands. He stood up, towering over Bonnie who craned her neck as far back as it would go. Damon stretched out his hands.

"You've had a long day and I think the bed is calling you."

"You're right," Bonnie didn't argue merely slipped her hands into his and was pulled to her feet.

Inches separated her and Damon. All either of them had to do was take a step. The only light in the living room came from the tree which hid Damon's face in contrasting shadows but Bonnie could never mistake the want and desire in his eyes.

Bonnie questioned the intelligence of her decision to show up here, to be alone with Damon when they hadn't been alone in five months. One of his hands lowered her to hip and the skin underneath his palm began to burn.

"Damon…"

He wanted to kiss her, could practically feel her lips pressed against his, but Damon didn't want to rush anything. Instead he spun her around, and then led her down the hall to the guest room.

The door swung open and the both of them loomed in the doorway, their eyes focused on the full sized bed.

The air between them sizzled and cracked. The tension becoming impossible for Bonnie to ignore, but she crossed over the threshold and then turned to face Damon. She could only make out his silhouette as he leaned casually against the doorframe.

He was bigger, musculature wise since the last time she saw him. He filled out his clothes more and Bonnie couldn't lie and say she wasn't curious about what he looked like without them on.

She admonished herself. She shouldn't be thinking about him like that. But the ache between her thighs resurrected having been dormant for the last two months.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Damon's baritone voice ruptured the stifling silence.

"I'll cook," Bonnie said. "Good night, Damon."

"Good night, Bonnie. If you need anything…you know where to find me. My door…anything you need that I can give you…is open."

Bonnie didn't need the light to see that his gaze, fixed and sharp was smoldering.

Swallowing was difficult to say the least. Bonnie remained immobilized as Damon closed the door to her room.

Chapter end.

**A/N: I'm sad to say that only two chapters are left in this. Stefan is spending time with Leah, but does what he feel for her compare to how he still feels for Bonnie? And Bamon spending the holidays together, will this be good or bad? Stay tuned. Until next time, love you guys!**


	14. Not Your Typical Holiday

**A/N: All I have to say is this gets very…I hope you're alone while reading this. This gets umm...raw.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. Aside from my OC's. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Christmas Day**

Cold, wet slush slapped him in the face. The contact made his teeth stand on end, made his heart lurch in his chest, made the muscles in his body tense for one second. Nostrils flaring, he retaliated immediately, pitching almost blindly in the flux of activity taking place around him. He was unsure if he hit his intended target. He had to move quickly because he was being surrounded and there were very few places to duck and take cover. Vapor emitted from between partially chapped lips. Clean air burned his lungs, made it that much harder to breathe. His North Face boots gave him some purchase on the ground, but he could feel his toes numbing and his fingers stiffening, but Damon Salvatore refused to surrender.

Executing a counterclockwise spin while shaping a mound of snow in his gloved hands, Damon reared his arm back and threw for all it was worth. Someone squealed and crushed having been pummeled in the face. Pumping his fist in the air, Damon ran full steam ahead and slid against the snow. He wrapped his wiggling prey in his arms and spoke directly into her ear.

"Surrender or face the consequences."

"Never surrender."

"So unwise," he said.

* * *

><p>"I don't care what you say, that turd had it coming," Damon opened up the door to his condo and stepped aside so Bonnie could enter first.<p>

Pursing her lips, Bonnie toed off her boots while unwinding the Pashmina scarf from around her neck. "Damon, she was a five year old little girl with asthma. You nearly decapitated the poor thing."

Damon quickly divested himself of his coat, gloves, and boots all of which was saturated with ice cold slush. "That wasn't a little girl, Bonnie," he disputed, "but Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Snaggletooth and everything."

Try as she might not to laugh, Bonnie couldn't exactly contain her chuckles. "You are so not right for that."

"You know if she snuck up on you in a back alley you'd take a brick to her head," Damon went on to defend his earlier actions.

Bonnie shook her head. "I try not to talk about people's kids so, no comment."

"Boo, you're lame."

That lovely response earned Damon the evil-eye.

They had spent the last few hours taking a stroll in Central Park where Damon was expectedly targeted and received a blow to his head in the form of a snowball. Bonnie had tried to keep him from retaliating when they saw it was a sweet smiling albeit mischievous little girl who had been the culprit. But when she flipped them off and gave a battle cry for her compatriots to attack, the two of them had to duck and take cover. A fight ensued leaving several children and a few adults in tears as they dragged themselves back to their boroughs because Damon was king of making people pay when they crossed him.

Admittedly it was the most fun she had in months. Especially seeing Damon running around, acting more like a kid than she had ever seen him behave in all the years she's known him. She knew he had a fun side, had been a benefactor of his inhibitions, but it became equally heart warming to see him interacting with kids—the kids that had joined his side during the snowball fight—directing them on who to take out. Bonnie had tried to stay out of it as much as she could, but was inevitably drawn in to defend her countrymen.

Their Christmas had started out ordinarily enough. Her twitching nostrils woke Bonnie up when she smelled bacon frying on the stove. Kicking the covers off and grabbing her robe and sliding her feet into her slippered boots, Bonnie made her way to the living room where she saw Damon pouring orange juice into a glass. There was a delicious spread on the table and Bonnie quickly retraced her steps to her room to remove the satin cap off her head, wash her face, and brush her teeth.

She reemerged fifteen minutes later and beamed at Damon who slid out her seat at the table.

"Merry Christmas," she greeted him.

"Merry Christmas," Damon repeated and instead of taking a seat on the other end of the table he sat adjacent to her.

She and Damon had braved the rush of last-minute shoppers Christmas Eve as they shouldered and elbowed their way through shopping centers and department stories. Bonnie had been against them buying each other presents citing that spending the holiday together was enough for her, but Damon wouldn't hear of it. If she was forcing him to get into the full Christmas spirit then the tree needed to be stocked with presents. Reluctantly Bonnie went along. Their shopping excursion became a challenge to find something meaningful without it saying too much.

They opened and exchanged gifts after wolfing down their breakfast. Damon had gotten her a Cartier wrist watch, a Marc Jacob purse, and a massage package to her favorite spa. Bonnie had presented Damon with a vintage Valentino leather jacket, a new pair of Durango boots, and Rayban aviator shades.

So far both of them had been on their best behavior. Whenever Bonnie felt the air between them became too heavy and complicated, she would create a diversion by suggesting they watch a movie, or go see a movie although nothing was out in the theaters that she wanted to see. Bonnie didn't trust herself to be completely alone with Damon for more than a few hours at a time; although he hadn't done anything to suggest he was expecting something in particular from her during her trip.

He might not have said anything verbally, but it was a subtle message conveyed through his actions. Lingering touches, long glances, sitting way too close to her on the couch. Bonnie tried to brush it off as Damon being Damon. He had a penchant for invading one's personal space so she tried not to dwell on it or make it any deeper than it was.

But at night as she slept alone, separated from Damon by nothing more than inches of space and a wall, she could still feel him.

Ignorance was her best weapon against him. If she never acknowledged the sexual tension that burned between them she could make it out of New York without doing something monumentally stupid.

At least that's what she told herself. Two days down, too many more to go.

After hanging her coat in the closet Bonnie tried to rub warmth back into her arms and hands. Damon adjusted the temperature on the thermostat by a single degree and then turned on the gas fireplace.

Bonnie sat down in front of the fire, stretching out her legs to warm up her toes. Winters in New York were not her thing. Sure it got cold in Virginia but it was the tolerable kind of cold, the polite kind of cold. Up here the winter air had an attitude, and delighted in the fact it could bitch smack a person around leaving them literally black and blue.

When Damon joined her she noticed his cheeks were a flaming pink almost red. He sat down next to her and passed over a glass of brandy.

"That'll warm you up," he took a sip of his own.

"And give me the chest hair I've always wanted," Bonnie griped but then sipped casually.

He smirked, "The night is still young. After you warm up what do you want to do?"

Bonnie thought for a moment. "I completely forgot but TBS is showing _A Christmas Story _marathon."

Damon grimaced. "That's the movie about the kid who wanted a BB gun for Christmas and everyone kept telling him he'd shoot his eye out and that's exactly what he did?"

Bonnie vigorously nodded her head. "But it's such a funny movie. I've watched it at least once every Christmas since they started airing it. _Please _can we watch? I know it's not your thing, but…I'm willing to let you choose our next activity."

When Damon leered and wiggled his brows Bonnie knew she made a mistake.

"I…uh…I didn't mean…" she stammered.

"Oh, relax. Fine we can watch that crappy movie, but if I fall asleep, totally not my fault."

When Bonnie's toes stopped screaming in protest due to lack of blood circulation she and Damon relocated to the couch. He flipped on the tube, Bonnie retrieved a blanket from the linen closet, and the two of them immersed themselves in the world of Peter Billingsley for the next two hours.

Try as she might to follow the movie and repeat the lines she knew by heart, Bonnie couldn't stop being painfully aware of Damon. From his smell, to the sound of his voice whenever he guffawed at something one of the actors said or did, or he shifted to a more comfortable position next to her, all of it equaled to her blood boiling and rushing through her veins. Sometimes her awareness of him literally locked all of her muscles, and it became especially bad when she felt his eyes lingering on her.

His thigh was touching her thigh and it was burning her. Bonnie couldn't have felt more like a girl with a high school crush around Damon. Sometimes she would feel faint and fuzzy whenever he was close. And the intense staring matches he liked to engage in certainly didn't help things. Bonnie never had to question what Damon was thinking because he wore his thoughts plainly on his face.

The movie was halfway over when Damon brushed her thigh seeking out her hand. Bonnie nearly catapulted off the couch.

"What are you doing?" her voice came out shrill.

"Why are you so jumpy around me?"

"I'm not jumpy around you," Bonnie denied unable to make eye contact with him.

"You've been…acting weird since you got here. If you're uncomfortable…"

Bonnie finally looked at him then. "I'm not uncomfortable."

Damon's eyes narrowed. "Then what is it? Why do I get the impression you think I'm about to maul you or something?"

"I don't know, Damon," Bonnie rose from the couch needing to put space between them. She strolled into the kitchen and began to pull out leftovers from their Christmas dinner. It was nothing extravagant just a few Cornish hens, spinach salad, risotto, and macaroni and cheese. For dessert Bonnie had baked Ghirardelli walnut brownies.

As expected Damon followed her and lingered in the entryway. "We're adults and I think we need to put this out there and then move on." Pause. "Yes, I want to have sex with you. I would _kill _to have sex with you right now."

Bonnie dropped the serving spoon, hands trembling. She had to force herself to look at Damon, and that was no easy task considering that his eyes were already having sex with her and she so desperately wanted to participate. But she couldn't. That wasn't the reason why she came up here, although Bonnie did pack a nightie, you know just in case. That didn't mean she intended to use it. But like she heard this woman in a movie say in reference to carrying her gun, she rather have it and not need it, then need it and not have it.

"Damon, you know we can't go there."

He stepped inside the kitchen, approached Bonnie until she was mashed between the sink and his body though he wasn't physically touching her. Damon was proud of himself for lasting two days without incident, but he wasn't sure if he was _that _strong to deny himself the one thing he's wanted for months now any longer. This wasn't about wanting to a bust a nut. He wanted to be with the woman he loved, make love to her, claim her in the most instinctual and basic way for a man to claim the woman he wanted as his. Bonnie came to him under the guise of not wanting to be alone for Christmas, but Damon wasn't stupid. She wanted him too, even if it was in the back of her mind, the fact that the possibility was there was enough for him.

They could play this game until she returned to Virginia but he simply didn't have the patience for it. In Damon's eyes it was now or never. He had chased Bonnie enough, but he hadn't exactly showed her all of his cards. He knew that a part of her still saw herself as Stefan's wife, soul mate, whatever, and hell she probably always would. That he could deal with.

But what he couldn't deal with, what was a deal breaker, was not knowing how she honestly felt about _him_. Her being here spoke volumes yet at the same time said very little. He was done playing around in the dark.

Damon didn't have supersonic hearing but he was pretty sure Bonnie's heart was palpitating in her chest. Her nostrils were flared as if she were trying to suck up every molecule of air in the room, and she avoided making eye contact with him the same way Wesley Snipes dodged paying taxes.

He lifted her chin. Her emerald eyes were clouded. "I want to be with you…"

"I didn't come up here for this," she hissed.

"You didn't? Are you sure about that? Did you honestly think things could remain or go back to being platonic between us? _Cara_, we've done too much, shared too much for things to go back to normal."

"What do you want from me, Damon?" Bonnie pressed herself against the counter, the granite was cutting into her back but she didn't care. She needed that painful distraction because otherwise she ran the risk of getting lost at sea. The sea being Damon's open and unguarded eyes.

Damon answered her question by placing his hand over her heart. "I want this," and that same hand moved lower until he cupped her through her jeans. Bonnie had to stifle a moan. "And I want this. In that order."

She was going to die. There was no way she'd be able to survive the rest of her trip with Damon saying things like that and touching her. Bonnie placed a hand on his chest and managed to push him away.

"I just can't…I'm…sorry…" she quickly left the kitchen and then barred herself in her room, clutching the edge of the bed while trying to suppress the need to cry. What she wouldn't give to be able to talk to someone: her grandmother, Elena, hell she'd take a conversation with her dad if it meant not having to deal with or think about Damon right this second.

The doorknob jiggled which startled her. "Open this door, Bonnie."

"Damon…please give me a minute."

There was silence on the other side for a second. "This is what you do best. You run when things get complicated. How the hell do you help people face their problems when you can't do the same with yours?"

Now she was pissed. Bonnie jolted off the bed, unlocked, and snatched open the door. "Don't you fucking criticize me! I do what I do because I'm good at it. I'm good at helping other people…"

"But when it comes to yourself…what? You rather run."

Bonnie sighed heavily. "I'm not running from anything, but Damon the both of us need to face some pretty hard facts."

He was already shaking his head. "The only fact I have to face, Bonnie is the fact that everything I've ever wanted in life I'm staring at right now."

"You don't know that."

"I'm not some genderly or sexually confused teenager, Bonnie. I'm a grown ass man and I know my mind and I know what I want. I want _you_. Not because we're good in bed together or because we make each other laugh, and it's not because I'm trying to get over on Stefan. I'm in love with you!"

Bonnie's mouth opened and closed like an alcoholic fish. She knew it. Sensed it. Was in tune with Damon's feelings, but she never wanted to validate them. Admit them. Or maybe she did only she was too scared of the public backlash that would follow if they ever revealed the true nature of their relationship. He had fallen in love with her. What should have had her running in the opposite direction was the very thing that was drawing her in.

Each second she didn't respond Damon felt a part of him being crushed. He had hoped against all odds that she might feel the same way. He knew that Bonnie loved him in the way a person would a close and dear friend, but he had always been uncertain if she shared the same passionate love for him that he held for her.

Her continued silence was giving him the answer he needed.

Damon stepped back, nodded his head, and then disappeared back into the living room.

* * *

><p><strong>Montana<strong>

Stefan fingered the turquoise stone bracelet on his wrist. It had been a Christmas gift from Leah although it wasn't a holiday that was celebrated in these parts. Sitting at the table in the Trueblood kitchen he listened as their children talked a mile a minute about a soccer tournament that was being held later on in the day. Stefan planned to go if he could shake himself out of the melancholy he was feeling.

It started some time last night. Every time he shut his eyes to get some sleep they would instantly pop open. When lying still didn't help, Stefan had gotten up and paced in his room, occasionally walking over to the window to peer out. He knew what was bothering him, but he didn't want to say what was bothering him.

Tehya came into the kitchen, the joy on her face slid to concern as she spotted Stefan sitting like a piece of stone at the table. She didn't need to ask what was wrong because she already knew. He was a man of two worlds, a man of two minds. Part of him was happy to be back here and she had seen and heard that things between Stefan and Leah were quote-en-quote heating up. Yet that part of him that was finding happiness again warred with the side of him that mourned the loss of his true home, his prior life. Other than dispensing advice she knew would fall on deaf ears, Tehya had kept her comments to herself knowing her husband had already spoken to Stefan about this.

Yet she couldn't help but wonder how long he was going to allow himself to volley like this with no true set path. Every man needed to find his way in the world, needed an occupation, or otherwise he would just drift through life like a piece of plywood in water.

"You sit still any longer and you'll begin to petrify, Stefan."

Hearing Tehya's strong voice knocked him back to the present. He smiled at the older woman and watched as she began to search through the cabinets looking for ingredients to make her special pumpkin bread.

"I just have a lot on my mind."

"Mm-hmm. Is Leah coming by later?"

"She'll be here in a couple of minutes."

"You two have been spending a lot of time together."

"Tehya," Stefan said in a playful yet warning tone. "I've already gotten the talk from Elan. Leah and I are just taking things slow, no need to stage an intervention."

Tehya snorted. "Believe it or not I was your age before. I know young people have certain…urges…"

Stefan squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "Trust me when I say that my 'urges' don't control or dictate my actions. I respect Leah, and we're just using this time to get to know each other."

"Yes, I understand that, Stefan," Tehya pulled out a chair and sat across from him. "But what do you plan to do with your life, son?"

"I've been thinking about opening up my own photography studio."

"Here? In Montana?"

Stefan scratched the back of his neck. Montana was a picturesque state, that went without saying but in terms of it helping launch his career it was pretty much a dead end. He shook his head.

"That's what I thought. Leah has deep roots here. If you two were to somehow make it, do you honestly think she'd leave all this and travel with you as you fulfill your dream, your purpose in life?"

"We haven't talked about that," he cleared his throat. "It's too soon for us to have a serious discussion about our future."

"It's never too soon, Stefan. Leah has been waiting for her husband since she grew boobs. And she's not aging in reverse. If you want to be with her, _truly_ be with her then you need to let whatever is anchoring you to your past—go."

Just as he was about to respond, Leah entered the kitchen, bright smile on her face. "Good Morning, Tehya…Stefan," she approached the matriarch of the Trueblood's and kissed her cheek.

Teyah patted her cheek affectionately and then diplomatically made herself scarce. Stefan finally rose from the kitchen table and pulled Leah close.

Their lips found one another and when Leah pulled back, Stefan noticed her eyes were sparkling. He knew that look on her face and what it symbolized. He wanted to make her happy, he wanted to be what she had been hoping and praying for, but Stefan felt too many skeletons still lingered in his closet.

He had shared bits and pieces of his past with her, omitting a large chunk of what he learned about Damon and Bonnie's involvement with one another. He wasn't sure if Leah had any right to know since it didn't directly involve her in anyway. But if she did know the true extent of how much he loved Bonnie she might begin to second-guess his sincerity in wanting to start a life with her.

"Are you ready to head over to the tournament grounds?" he asked.

"Actually I was thinking we could skip it. There's some place I want to show you. Besides it won't be much of a competition because the Trueblood's always win."

"I heard that," came a gruff voice from the living room.

Lean and Stefan shared a smile before she took his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen. "You know its true, Elan so please with all due respect, don't act like it's not."

Elan good-naturedly rolled his eyes but then winked. He watched as Stefan and Leah pulled on their coats. He had to physically restrain himself from speaking against them being alone together, but he realized they were grown adults and not a pair of horny kids.

"Be careful you two. The wolves are out and they're hungry. This winter is being unkind to them."

"As always you know just the right thing to say to put someone at ease, Elan," Leah grinned and returned his wink with one of her own. "Ready, Stefan?"

He nodded and then inclined his head towards Elan who was pretty much glaring at him. "Good luck at the tournament although I have it on good authority you won't need it."

The two of them shuffled out of the house and hopped in Leah's two-door Volkswagen. The drive took them five miles outside of the reservation and into a small neighboring town. The population sign stated no more than a hundred and fifty-two people called this place home. Leah pulled off what Stefan could assume was the main strip and guided the car down a dirt road that eventually opened up to reveal a small, quaint log cabin.

Leah snapped off her belt. "This belongs to my mother. It was a gift from my grandfather after she married my dad. This is where they went on their honeymoon."

The two of them stepped out and Stefan trailed behind Leah as she unlocked the door and then waited for him to come inside.

Stefan looked around the little bungalow. "This is really nice. The woodwork is awesome."

"Built entirely out of cedar and redwood. It has full plumbing and electricity. Can you get a fire started?"

Without question, Stefan moved over to the stone fireplace admiring the carpentry. "Did you bring me here to seduce me?"

Leah, who had disappeared to parts unknown peeped her head from a doorway. "Yes."

"Oh, well let me get this fire going then," Stefan said enthusiastically.

Her laughter rang in his ears like bells. Stefan was glad that one of the things he learned while living on the Rez was how to build a fire. He had one going in only seconds and then shrugged off his coat, hanging it on a peg next to the front door. All of the furniture in the living room looked handmade. When Leah returned she was not empty handed. She held a bottle of wine and a picnic basket in her hand.

Stefan gulped. He had had his fair share of hookups and romantic interludes but being in a monogamous relationship and then married had cancelled all of that out.

"You look terrified, Stefan. Maybe we shouldn't do this. I only meant to do something nice for you because it's Christmas and my people…we don't celebrate it."

"No, this is fine…its fine," he approached her and then took the bottle of wine out of her hands. "This is just the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me in a while. Thank you, Leah."

Leah nodded and smiled. She picked up a blanket and smoothed it out on the floor and then patted the spot next to her. Stefan didn't hesitate to join her.

Leah watched as Stefan opened the wine and then filled two goblets that were in the picnic basket.

"It's okay if you miss her."

Stefan looked up at Leah sharply.

She continued. "It would be understandable if you do. You had history with her and something like that isn't easily forgotten. She was your heart. You spent holidays together, made memories."

"Leah…"

Her small fingers against his lips silenced him. "I know you're trying, Stefan. But I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you to move on. When you're ready, it'll be our time. All I want you to do is follow your heart."

"And that's what I'm doing, Leah. Being here with you is all I want."

The woman in question bored into his eyes seeking out the authenticity of his words. She picked up her goblet and held it up in the air. Stefan followed suit.

"To new beginnings," Leah said.

"To new beginnings," Stefan repeated.

* * *

><p>To say things were tense between them was an understatement. Bonnie had tried to draw Damon into conversation the next day, but he never replied with more than a sentence—five words or less, and eventually she gave up. She wasn't going to force him to acknowledge her existence, and she tried to behave as if he hadn't dropped the Atom bomb on her by professing to be in love with her. So she tried to go about life as normally as possible. But since he was going out of his way to be an ogre, Bonnie knew the best course of action was to simply carry on.<p>

So she did by meeting with Caroline twice to have lunch and do a bit of after Christmas shopping.

Damon for his part tried to avoid Bonnie by spending pointless time in his home office, pretending to get some work done despite the fact there really wasn't anything for him to do. When he wasn't doing that, he shuffled off to the gym to work off his frustration and disappointment that a full week had passed and Bonnie hadn't brought up his admission.

He didn't know what to think. There was a side of him that wanted her to leave so he could wallow in his misery, but then there was a more dominate side that wanted her to stay. She just needed time to adjust to this new element in their relationship. And he would grudgingly give her that.

Damon figured that Bonnie thought there were a plethora of women out there who longed to hear those words from him; she just never would have imagined she'd be the one.

It was now New Year's Eve. Their original plan was to stay in, but that was nixed now that things were extremely awkward between them. When Damon's talkative neighbor invited him to his New Year's Eve party, Damon quickly agreed although the man was a virtual stranger, still he figured it would be best to do something than sit on a couch and watch the entire world have fun on the last night of the year.

He was inspecting his face before shutting off the light in his bathroom. Damon was dressed in all black as usual.

He stepped out into the hall at the same time Bonnie did. Damon tried to control the widening of his eyes when he saw her attired in a curve hugging cherry red halter dress that she paired with six inch patent leather stilettos. Her long, chocolate locks had been brushed to wavy perfection and swept to one side covering her left shoulder. Her eye makeup was so elaborate that he could barely make out her piercing jade eyes, and her lips were left nude with only a coat of clear gloss covering them.

"I'm ready," Bonnie said as she strolled by him barely pausing long enough to make direct eye contact.

The scent of her perfume lured him, reeled him in like a fish and made his mouth water and his dick twitch behind the seam of his pants. Damon followed her out into the living room where he collected his keys and cell phone. He checked the time noting they were just two hours away from the New Year.

Bonnie waited for him by the door.

"You look nice," he complimented.

"So do you." And sadly that had been the nicest thing they said to one another since his Christmas revelation.

Marching down the other end of the ridiculously long hallway, Bonnie stood a little behind Damon as he knocked on the door and rang the bell. They could hear the thump of music and loud, boisterous voices coming from inside. It would be a miracle if anyone came to open the door.

But the door did fly open and Damon tried to smile at his too trusting and friendly neighbor. Damon quickly introduced Mark to Bonnie who couldn't keep his eyes off her hips. They were quickly whisked inside and champagne flutes immediately found their way into their hands. Bonnie took a tentative sip and realized it was the good, imported stuff.

"Do you know anyone here aside from Mark?" Bonnie leaned up a little to practically yell in Damon's ear.

He shook his head. "I barely know him myself."

Mark was busy talking a mile a minute not bothering to introduce Bonnie and Damon to any of the other guests who made it no secret they were craning their necks to get a better look at them. Bonnie hated being put on display and simply took her own tour of Mark's condo.

The layout was the same as Damon's with slight differences here and there. Mark's living room had almost double the space, and his kitchen was bare and damn near institutional. Interesting artwork graced the stark white walls, and soft contemporary—yet pretentious music wafted through the air.

Damon finished off his first glass of champagne within seconds. A petite blonde no bigger than a garden gnome suddenly blocked his path. She was draped in Margi Gras beads as she proudly rocked a Happy New Year Tiara and 2012 eyeglasses. Wordlessly she draped several glittery beads around his neck before holding up the peace sign.

Ooookayyyyy.

Looking around, Damon lost sight of Bonnie but then found her admiring a portrait on the wall. She wasn't alone for two seconds before a distinguished African American alpha male strutted over to her. Bonnie chatted politely with the guy showing her teeth too many times in Damon's estimation. He watched as Bonnie vaguely pointed in his direction after she looked around the crowd trying to find him. More than likely the intruder asked her if she was here with anyone. Damon and the man made eye contact and glared at one another.

Instead of that being enough for the man to back away, he stepped closer to Bonnie, hoarding her space. Bonnie tensed and discreetly tried to establish a neutral zone, but the man was persistent to remain in her company. Bonnie must have said something tart to the guy because he looked offended that she'd have the gall to turn him down, but then he composed himself and quickly walked off to his next conquest.

Damon smirked and went in search of another drink.

Three drinks, five pointless conversations, and plenty of standing around later, the countdown was moments away from beginning.

"All right, guys we're just twenty seconds away!" Mark yelled which only served to increase the noise of the condo.

Bonnie and Damon were huddled together next to a row of windows. Being at a stranger's party had kind of melted away the awkwardness between them. They had spent the rest of the time talking about and critiquing people, and took guesses on who was sleeping with whom.

Shifting on her feet, Bonnie felt her palms begin to burn. She knew there was one thing people did to bring in the New Year once the ball dropped and the marquee lit up marking the start of a new year, a new opportunity to get life right, a new chance to do the things you said you would yet failed to achieve.

The countdown started as several people were huddled and glued around the flatscreen. Damon and Bonnie on the other hand couldn't keep their eyes off one another.

_**Ten**__. _Damon shifted until he was standing right in front of Bonnie. _**Nine**__. _Bonnie straightened her spine despite the fact her shoes were pinching her feet. _**Eight**__. _Damon braced a hand on the wall Bonnie was leaned up against, slightly trapping her. _**Seven**__. _She attempted to smile but her facial muscles weren't working. _**Six**__. _A corner of Damon's lips lifted in a triumphant smile. _**Five. **_She didn't have anywhere to go and she wasn't getting out of this. _**Four**__. _Bonnie ran her tongue over her bottom lip. _**Three**__. _Damon did the same. _**Two. **_Damon's head was lowering bringing his mouth closer to hers. _**One**__. _Their lips touched and Bonnie instantly felt heat shoot from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. It made pit stops at her breasts and the juncture between her thighs. Damon's tongue infiltrated her mouth, stealing her breath, weakening her defenses. **Happy New Year!**

Her hands of their own volition balled his shirt in her fists, bringing him closer, eliminating what space separated them. When their lips parted briefly, Damon heard Bonnie emit a sound that was a cross between a breathy moan and a hiss. He dove in again this time holding nothing back. His other hand dropped to her hip before sliding around and taking possession of her ass. He squeezed and began to knead her plump rear end.

He was driving her crazy. Bonnie slid a hand between them seeking out that missile that was pressing urgently against her belly, but she stopped herself. They weren't alone. They were in an apartment full of strangers who didn't need to be privy to this.

Heart racing Bonnie broke off the kiss much to Damon's chagrin.

"We should go," Bonnie suggested.

Damon didn't need to be told twice simply took Bonnie by the hand. They didn't bother trying to find Mark to thank him for inviting them. Simply headed towards the door, and spilled out into the much cooler hall. Bonnie didn't even make it five feet before she stopped, spun around, and then grabbed Damon by the lapels of his shirt.

Their lips were instantly fused together. They crashed into the wall. Damon's hand went on a mission to lift up her dress and feel her slippery wetness he suspected was already waiting for him. Ideally he knew getting busy in the hall was not the place for this, but there was no way he could stop, tear Bonnie off of him who was more determined than ever to give him a tonsillectomy.

Her hand dug into his pocket looking for the key to the front door of his home, which it brushed—accidentally against his penis earning a tortured groan from Damon.

"Sorry," Bonnie's smile was anything but apologetic. She dug out the key, stomped her way to his apartment, and unlocked the door.

Damon was behind her, his hands unwilling to remain by his sides. Instead they were busy holding her tightly by the hips. He gently pushed Bonnie through the front door, and then turned her around. His lips found their place molded to hers once again. Damon picked her up bridal style, simply too impatient to trip their way to his bedroom. Not bothering to turn on a light, he lowered Bonnie to her feet the second they reached their destination. She instantly kicked off her shoes which caused a dramatic decrease in height ratio, but Damon accommodated the change by bending his knees, refusing to stop kissing her. Though both of them needed to take a breath.

When he pulled away and tried to study her face in the dimness of his bedroom, he was ready to question if this was what she wanted, if _he _was who she wanted.

Bonnie wasn't psychic but she knew the question that lingered between them. She stopped words from escaping his mouth by simply covering his lips with her fingers.

"Shush," she soothed. "Unzip my dress."

Damon did so, finding the zipper in the back and easily lowering her. The material flowed down her body like a waterfall. Her caramel skin appeared dark chocolate in the darkness of the room, made the breath rush out of Damon once his eyes adjusted. He noticed that Bonnie's lady parts were covered with nothing more substantial than wispy sheer French lace.

He swallowed thickly and then stood as Bonnie's fingers worked the buttons out of the holes in his shirt. She brushed the material off his shoulders once the last button parted and she was greeted with skin the color of the moon and hard, sculpted muscles that her tongue was already twitching in anticipation to taste and trace like an artist. Her fingers crashed into his belt buckle, yet she looked up at Damon, the blue of his eyes his most startling and devastating feature were infused on her every little move.

She turned around and proudly walked over to his bed. Damon groaned when he saw that her underwear was little more than a thin G-string. Bonnie climbed up on the bed, and arched her back like a jaguar stretching on a tree branch about to take a nap. She remained poised on all fours offering him an unobstructed view of her voluptuous backside that was demanding to be spanked and bitten—repeatedly. Bonnie looked at him over her shoulder.

Damon approached, climbed on the bed behind her. His hands first made contact with her shoulders, gently pushing Bonnie down on the mattress. As she did so, those same hands traveled down her flawless skin, traveling the curvature of her spine. Once they reached her ass he grabbed her cheeks, squeezed and separated them. One finger traced her slit through her flimsy panties. It easily glided back and forth, up and down due to the moisture that had pooled there.

A digit slipped between the thin fabric barrier. Bonnie moaned and balled the sheet in her hands. Another soon joined and Damon began maneuvering in and out slightly twisting his fingers in her snatch. Bonnie moved her own hand in her panties and began to tease her stiff clit as she moved her hips.

The way Damon manipulated his fingers was not duplicable. No matter how many times Bonnie tried to remake the magic at home it was never quite the same when Damon pleasured her this way. Her mouth opened as stucco pants of air escaped. She was getting close the faster he worked his fingers in and out of her tight sheath.

Sensing that she was close to reaching her zenith Damon reluctantly removed his fingers and stuck them in his mouth enjoying her heady taste.

Within an instant Damon had rolled Bonnie over and covered her body with his. Their inseparable mouths found one another in the short reprieve. Bonnie ran her tongue across his teeth tasting herself and Damon. The dark-haired Salvatore did the same, and moaned against the sensation as he took Bonnie's hands and placed them above her head.

He pulled back far enough to unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly to reveal he had chosen not to wear underwear. Bonnie stared unabashedly at his throbbing member that shot out of his jeans like a steel rod. A drizzle of precum dripped from the bulbous head. Bonnie imagined the head was tinted a dark pink, and she licked her lips in anticipation to feel it buried deep within her soft tissue.

If possible the air began to feel heavier and hotter in his bedroom as a light film of sweat coated her body.

Her bra took flight. Her panties were lowered down her legs with the help of Damon's teeth. Once she laid in the buff, he had to restrain himself not to pounce.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are to me."

Bonnie smiled, leaned up, and ran her fingers through his ink-black hair and slowly brought his lips closer to hers. When they began kissing it was less frantic almost loving. Damon somehow managed to wiggle his jeans off, and then wrenched Bonnie's thighs apart with his knee, and began to rotate ever so slowly to cause friction against her nub. On a broken cry, Bonnie ended their kiss to thrash her head on the bed unable to stand being tortured for another minute.

Damon smiled cockily as he kissed a scorching path down her neck and he didn't stop until he reached the chocolate peaks of her breasts. One got lost between the suction of his lips while the other was relentlessly teased and toyed with until it too found its temporary home in Damon's warm and wet mouth. To play with her even more, Damon rubbed the bulbous head of his manhood against that hidden bundle of nerves circling it and tapping it.

Bonnie was ready to detonate if he didn't enter her right this second. With him feeding like a starved man at her breasts, and the head of his dick eliciting a response from all eight thousand nerves in her clit, her nails raked down his back.

"_Fuck," _Damon whispered. He couldn't hold out any longer. But he did stop long enough to grab a condom.

Bonnie took it out of his hands and slipped it on. Just as Damon was fully prepared to continue on his journey heading south, Bonnie stopped him.

"Later," she panted. "I just need to feel you in me, Damon."

"Then put me where you want me to be," he looked Bonnie straight in the eye.

Without a word, Bonnie grasped him, cupped and fondled him until she nearly had Damon on the brink. Then she impaled herself on Damon, felt him slip and stretch her unused and neglected muscles, stretching and carving his way deep inside of her. She hissed as the mix of pleasure and pain of it nearly caused Bonnie to bite clean through her bottom lip. Damon was larger than average and always filled her to where she felt overfull, but it was such a delicious feeling that she nearly burst right there, frayed at the seams.

Damon's lapis lazuli eyes rolled in the back of his head. He clenched his teeth on top of one another and balled a fist full of his expensive sheets in his hand. Gotdamn she was tight and so warm she was scorching him. Gradually he began to rock against Bonnie, pushing in, retreating out. The sound of her pussy suctioning him filled the room as well as his concentrated groans and Bonnie's mewls. The bed groaned and creaked and it didn't take long for the headboard to bang against the wall. He wanted to go slow, but Damon felt his control slipping until he was pounding away, but he would stop, pull out until he nearly exited her warm cavern, before diving back in. He watched as Bonnie's breasts jiggled and swayed like dye in a lava lamp.

Her thighs were no longer clutching him like a vise but she extended her legs until she was completely spread eagle.

All of Damon's muscles were working in coordination to take Bonnie where the both of them had denied themselves to go. Sweat began to populate his forehead, the center of his back and chest. Their slick skin slapped against one another. Damon changed position until he was resting completely on his shins, leaned back to where his palms were holding him upright behind him as he continued to thrust into Bonnie at a maddening pace.

The minute she started speaking gibberish he knew she was close to coming. So he slowed his pace again, adjusted position, hefted one of Bonnie's legs over his shoulder and angled his hips to where he repeatedly hit her G-Spot.

"Oh….god…fuck!" Bonnie screamed at the ceiling.

"Whose pussy is this?" Damon grunted.

"askshishighsihsi."

That wasn't an acceptable answer so Damon went harder, buried himself as deep as he could go. "I said whose pussy is this?" he stroked her hardened nub.

"…Yours…"

"Damn right its mine."

The more Damon bucked into her, the wetter Bonnie felt she was becoming which was pure insanity. Her entire body felt taut like it was one string away from exploding and setting the room on fire. With Damon teasing her clit she played with her nipples, pinching them, and wishing she could suck on them. Her eyesight kept going in and out of focus, but Damon positioned her again and now her back was completely arched off the bed, her legs wrapped around his lower back as he held her suspended while he continued to fuck her.

"I'm about to…."

She didn't get to finish her sentence. Her breath hitched and then she released the loudest scream she could muster as her inner walls clamped down on Damon's phallus before contracting wildly.

Damon wasn't near ready to follow suit, but then something strange happened. Bonnie was peeing on him but he banked that when he realized she was squirting. Her screams went in rhythm with the fluid that rushed out of her drenched pussy. She hissed like a cat

Now. That. Had. Never. Happened. Before. He made a woman squirt.

And it was enough to send Damon careening right over the edge. He held on to her tightly, all the veins in his neck visible to the naked eye, every breath pulling painfully on his diaphragm as he tried to recover. He lowered Bonnie to the bed, who was still shivering and jerking as if she had been electrocuted.

"You can't go back to Virginia. Not after that," Damon said once he was sure he was able to speak coherently.

With his head resting on her breasts, Bonnie pushed his sweaty locks off his forehead. "Damon…" she didn't continue until he was looking at her. "I'm in love with you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>Montana<strong>

He was startled awake. Rubbing the sleep out his eyes, Stefan picked up his watch to check the time. With only the moonlight streaming in, it was impossible to see what the hour was, but he figured it was pretty damn early. He awoke because he felt like he was suffocating. There was tightness in his chest and for a minute Stefan wondered if he might be having a heart attack. Yet his left arm wasn't going numb and there was no searing pain accompanying the tightness.

The body next to him shifted. Leah was still asleep yet her warm naked body wasn't enough to entice him to join her.

Pushing the blankets off, Stefan found his boxers on the floor and quickly donned them. He quietly left the bedroom and found his way to the kitchen in the darkness. He and Leah had escaped back to her mom's log cabin to ring in the New Year. She had never had champagne before and all it took was two glasses and she was in Lalalopsy land. Things started off innocently enough between them with a lot of kissing, which led to touching, then fondling, and then they were both naked and writhing on the floor.

Stefan expected guilt to come knocking on his door bringing along luggage in the form of self-loathing, and regret, but he felt none of those things, and that's where he told himself he was over Bonnie.

But now Bonnie was heavily on his brain and he wondered why. Hopefully nothing happened to her, but he had no way of contacting her, and judging by the time difference it was probably five in the morning in Virginia.

Stefan pulled out a bottle of water and greedily smashed it. Loneliness blanketed him and he missed her. He wanted to see her or at the very least hear her voice. He remembered suddenly that Leah had a cell phone. He checked down the hall just to make sure she was still sleeping before he retrieved her bag and grabbed her phone.

He had memorized Bonnie's number and he called her before he could change his mind. The phone, as he suspected rang until her voice mail came on. Stefan opened his mouth but the only thing that would or could come out was:

"Happy New Year, Bonnie," he ended the call and then deleted the number out of Leah's call memory. Hopefully that hadn't sounded as patronizing as it did to his ears.

Shaking his head, he had no idea what he was doing other than making his life unnecessarily complicated. Stefan put Leah's phone back in her purse, threw away the plastic bottle in the recycling bin, and then rejoined Leah in bed.

* * *

><p>Filled with unmistakable warmth, Bonnie giggled and played with Damon's fingers, more to the matter his family ring. Damon was surprised he was still attached to the earth. When he heard Bonnie say that she was in love with him at first he thought he was hallucinating. She couldn't possibly feel for him what he felt for her. The universe wouldn't be that kind to him not when he treated women as if they were disposable, and gave his parents hell when they were both still alive.<p>

The last time they were in bed had been the same day they learned Stefan had been alive the two years they thought him dead. In a way they had come full circle, and Damon wondered exactly where things would go from here. Bonnie was leaving for Virginia in two days, and he was reporting to work tomorrow, which didn't give them much time.

Instead he soaked up this moment, tracing the shape of her ear with his fingers. "How long have you known you've been in love with me?" he asked.

"Probably before the first time we slept together."

"So why didn't you say anything?"

Bonnie angled her head so she could look at him. "Why didn't you say anything?" she countered.

"I asked first."

"Probably for the same reason you didn't…I was scared, Damon. I didn't want to ruin what we had because I felt it was all I had left. Plus I felt it was a _huge_ betrayal to Stefan. So I ignored it, kept a tight lid on it, and I just took you in whatever capacity I could get you."

Damon rubbed his tired eyes. The sky outside was a very faint blue. In another hour or so the sun would fully be up and neither he nor Bonnie had gone to sleep yet.

"We've wasted so much time," Damon complained. "We've could have been in a relationship this whole time."

Bonnie remained mum about that. Long distance relationships were not her thing. Her silence did not go unnoticed.

"Your silence is deafening," Damon deadpanned. "Is this your way of saying without having to say you don't want to be in a relationship with me?"

Bonnie closed her eyes and then sat up, resting against the headboard. She covered her breasts with the bed sheet and duvet.

"Damon," Bonnie sighed, "with you living in New York and me in Virginia it wouldn't be enough," she explained. "Everything between us was nothing more than stolen moments. And I didn't want to hold you back from being with someone who shared the same lifestyle as you do."

Damon sat up too but the displeasure marring his face made it slightly difficult for Bonnie to maintain eye contact.

"What do you mean share the same lifestyle as I do? I'm not a gigolo."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow and Damon shrugged. "That's not what I meant. What I mean is someone who jet sets, and can take off at the drop of a dime, and has an endless supply of energy. My life in Virginia is very slow and mundane compared to yours. I didn't want to feel like I was hindering you."

"Bonnie, look I think you're missing the whole point. My life here isn't a life. Ass kissing and brown nosing for seven figures a year. Living out of suitcases and surviving off of room service, and missing major holidays with family because I'm always traveling. Being away from people who know me. Living in this cold ass apartment that I'm lucky I get to see ten times a month. Whenever I was with you in Virginia I felt like I was _living. _Don't you get it? You are my home."

The woman in question lowered her eyes. "Every time you left I just counted down the time until you returned in my head. I was so lonely with you gone I tried to fill the time by doing whatever I could to stay busy, and when we were together I felt like I could finally breathe."

Damon smiled a bit shyly. "So where do we go from here? Do we try to make this work?"

Bonnie wanted to say yes, tried to say yes but there was a very important hurdle blocking the way, and Damon could tell what it was by the expression on her face.

"You're not going to give me a chance because you don't want to come in between me and Stefan."

A tear slid down her cheek and Bonnie quickly brushed it away. "Damon…"

"Let me worry about my brother."

"I wish it were that simple."

"It's over between the two of you," he said brutally. "I mean…" Damon chortled. "What the hell was last night about? You just wanted to fuck me and then fuck my head up?"

"NO! That's not what it was about."

"Then explain it to me…you know what forget it because I already know what you're going to say. You love me, you love Stefan and you don't want to hurt either one of us so you rather let us both go."

Damon waited for Bonnie to deny it and when she didn't he got out of bed, marched into his bathroom, and slammed the door.

Bonnie cried in tandem, holding in her wailing sobs wishing she could give herself completely to Damon but not at the expensive of his relationship with his brother. She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't be their version of Yoko Ono. They needed each other whether they wanted to admit it or not. She loved Damon. She loved Stefan. But she loved herself too and Bonnie knew she wouldn't be able to look herself in the mirror if she knew she was the reason the Salvatore brothers never spoke to one another again.

She went back to her room, entered the bathroom, and started the shower. Bonnie looked at herself in the mirror.

Sometimes in life there simply was no happy ending.

Chapter end.

**A/N: I know it may be difficult to tell who may be endgame or if there will be an endgame and I've finally decided how I will wrap this whole thing up. But thank you lovelies for reading and just send me your doctor's bill…wait I'm still in a recession so never mind ;) Love you guys!**


	15. Saying Uncle

**A/N: Here it is the last and final chapter of Indiscretion. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

A pink tongue slithered through lips painted blood-red and ran across the pads of her fingers to which she used to flip a page of the glossy magazine. A magazine she had no business reading while out on the floor. The night was so dreadfully boring she needed something to keep her mind occupied, and to keep her yawns at bay. Only a handful of people were enjoying a late dinner at Monticello Restaurant. The hostess checked the time on the clock that was poised above her head. She frowned. There was still a good two hours left before her shift was over and she could go home.

Returning her attention back to the magazine, an ad piqued her interest. Before she could ogle the ridiculously good-looking male model, a rush of cold air came barreling in signaling the arrival of another customer. Grimacing and sighing, the hostess tucked her magazine away and then snatched up a pen. Her already surly attitude turned even more sour when she saw that the woman who just stepped foot inside of the establishment was stunning.

"Welcome to Monticello's…party for one?" Maci, the hostess asked politely enough.

The customer strolled up to the hostess' podium, smile in place. "I have a reservation under the name Salvatore."

Maci perked up a bit. She remembered the name yet more to the matter the _face _attached to that name. Honestly, seeing him had been the highlight of her otherwise dismal night.

"Of course," Maci said officiously. "Right this way. Your party is already here."

There was a flicker of emotion that crossed the woman's face that Maci barely picked up on, but if years of being a woman taught her anything, it was telling her the new arrival was nervous. Not that she blamed her. A man with an unblemished and perfectly symmetrical face with a hot body to match, she would have been a puddle on the floor.

Maci led the way. Yet that didn't mean she missed the Swarovski crystal encrusted stilettos that probably cost more than her rent, car note and insurance combined that the lady was wearing. Nevertheless Maci wove through the square-shaped tables that were covered with off-white linen table cloths.

The quiet chattering of the few patrons inside had momentarily forgotten their meals and companions as they watched the lady toss a strand of rippling ebony hair over her shoulder.

"Here you are," Maci announced when she arrived at the appointed table.

Mint green eyes brightened as she graced Maci with a beguiling smile. "Thank you."

Very quickly Maci looked between the man who had been fiddling with his cell phone and the woman who began to unbutton her coat. She wondered if they were married but discarded the assumption because neither one of them were wearing rings. Not that that meant anything in this day and time. People were taking a more casual approach to marriage these days.

The man had risen from his seat and was nearly incapable of taking his eyes off his dinner guest.

"Would you like to check your coat?" Maci directed at the woman.

"Yes, please."

"Under the same name as the reservation?"

"No…under the name Bonnie Bennett."

Maci nodded, and took the coat from Bonnie. "Enjoy your meal," she said and then reluctantly made her way back to her post.

Alone and on her own, Bonnie kept her gaze locked on the bluish-gray eyes that hadn't budged from hers. Her heart was screaming in her ears and she felt light-headed and afraid. There was never a time other than the day shit hit the fan that Bonnie felt mortally afraid to be alone with Stefan. She had fallen in love with him at the age of twenty-two, married him at twenty-four, and here she was flirting with twenty-nine, but she felt like she was thirteen. Butterflies were being chased by dragons in her stomach, and it was difficult swallowing only because her throat was extremely dry. It may have taken her a few minutes to realize that neither she nor Stefan had made any move to greet one another, or to take their seats. Eyes were on them, but she didn't really care about that.

For his part, Stefan had given himself plenty of pep talks throughout the day and then on the drive to the restaurant. He was back here in Virginia to tie up a plethora of loose ends; that's all this little visit was about. That's what his head was saying. His heart was another matter altogether.

Four months, that's how much time had passed since the last time they laid eyes on one another. Stefan thought he would be immune to Bonnie's presence and beauty, but clearly that wasn't the case. She hadn't done anything drastic with her look. She was just as he remembered. Only her eyes which had always been full of wisdom and laughter were now kind of closed off—shrouded to prevent herself from getting hurt.

Clearing his throat, Stefan extended his hand. A handshake felt foolish and impersonal considering all the history between them, but he didn't trust himself to do more.

Bonnie extended her hand which was swallowed up in Stefan's larger palm. His skin was tepid, his fingers a little calloused but other than that his grip was firm. She let his hand go after five seconds and then the both of them took their seats.

Now that they were sitting, Bonnie averted her eyes to check out the decorum of the restaurant. Lit votive candles burned in crystal holders which reflected off the surface of the cream china and sterling silver flatware. She had never been to Monticello's before, but a few of her colleagues had raved about its five-star service, and mouth-watering cuisine. Eating was the last thing on her mind, but she would kill for a glass of really strong wine.

"Were you waiting long?" Bonnie opened up the dialogue.

Stefan scooted his chair a little closer to the table. "I've only been here for about fifteen minutes. I already ordered some wine. The Pinot Grigio, I know that's your favorite."

A corner of Bonnie's mouth lifted in a smile. She picked up the menu and quickly perused the choices.

"How have you been?" his question interrupted her meal shopping.

Bonnie lifted her eyes from the menu. "I've been okay. What about you?"

"I'm closing on a property in Los Angeles. I'll soon be the owner of the next photography and design studio slash school."

When Bonnie smiled it erased the anxiety and weariness off her face. "That's amazing, Stefan. Congratulations! Photography has always been your passion."

Stefan nodded his head humbly. Little by little he was putting his life back together after he thought he had lost everything. He wasn't where he wanted to be, but he was getting there as each day passed.

Before their "breaking-the-ice" conversation could continue, their waiter came over and ran down the night's specials while another waiter filled their glasses with white wine. Bonnie decided she'd try the roasted lamb whereas Stefan wanted chicken.

Silence engulfed their table the second they were alone again. They never had this problem before, yet Bonnie conceded they weren't what they used to be. Bonnie hadn't known what to expect when she got a phone call out of the blue from Stefan who awkwardly asked her to join him for dinner. At first it took a minute for Bonnie to realize it wasn't a prank call, that she was indeed hearing Stefan's voice for the first time in close to four months, well other than the voice mail message he left her wishing her a Happy New Year. Bonnie had agreed to dinner, and then wondered if she should call him back and cancel. She was still reeling over how things went down between her and Damon over New Year's, and just as she turned her back on one Salvatore, here came the other.

There were things Bonnie wanted to discuss with Stefan and things she wanted to know about in the time they had been separated, but she wanted to remain objective about things. Now armed with the knowledge that he was opening up a studio out in Los Angeles it was more than clear he wasn't here to try to fix things between them.

"Why did you want to have dinner with me, Stefan?"

He didn't appear taken aback by the question, more like relieved that she finally brought up one of the pink elephants in the room.

"I wanted to see how you've been," he admitted. "I know things are the way they are between us…"

"You left and cut off all communication," Bonnie interrupted feeling anger take over unexpectedly. "I mean…" she sighed to cool herself down, "you had every reason to want to put space between us, but to not tell me and…and I had no idea where you were just brought up all those old feelings of the first time you disappeared."

A tick hammered in Stefan's jaw and he immediately broke eye contact with Bonnie. It had occurred to him that his leaving abruptly and then cancelling his cell phone service was perhaps not the best route to take. He hadn't concerned himself with how Bonnie might take him leaving; he only concerned himself with the fact that he needed to get the hell out of Virginia as soon and as fast as possible.

"I should have told you that I was going to take off for a while. So you wouldn't worry."

To Bonnie's ears it was like Stefan was eating raw lemons to have to admit that. "I know what you do with your time is none of my business anymore…but you are still important to me, Stefan. I just want to know that you're okay."

He looked up at her then and noticed she wasn't saying that just to say it or appear sincere. Bonnie meant it.

"I'm sorry," he intoned.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry."

Stefan shook his head. He didn't want to go down this road again, and especially not in front of an audience. Luckily their dinner arrived giving them yet another distraction. Bonnie thanked the waiter and spread her table napkin over her dress. Stefan followed suit.

"How were your holidays?" Stefan opted to change the subject.

Bonnie didn't respond until she swallowed her bite of lamb. That wasn't an easy topic to discuss either. "I spent Thanksgiving with Elena and Jeremy. Christmas and New Year's…I was in New York."

Stefan snapped his eyes up from his plate and stared at her. _Hard._ He shouldn't have been surprised by that but he was. His hand tightened on his fork.

"How is my brother?" Stefan inquired as casually as possible.

"He misses you," Bonnie replied watching as emotions coiled in Stefan's eyes. It was plain easy to see he was pissed.

Stefan said nothing to that, only picked up his wine glass and nearly drained the contents. "So are you two…"

Bonnie shook her head. Stefan's eyebrows arched. "I can admit this to you…I do love Damon, but he needs more than just me. He needs his brother. And I don't want to be the reason why the two of you never speak to one another again."

"So you let him go…you didn't even want to give things a shot?"

"Not if it meant that you lived the rest of your life hating him. I can deal with you hating me, but not him. You two are all the family you have left."

Sitting his fork down, Stefan worked his tongue between his teeth and looked away from Bonnie for a minute. On the plane ride back to Virginia he told himself that if Bonnie confessed that she and his brother were together that he wouldn't let the news faze him. Not to say that he would throw them a party, but that he would handle things as maturely as possible. Now to hear that Bonnie did in fact love his brother and he knew how Damon felt about Bonnie, and she was letting him go as not to ruin what was left of his relationship with Damon, Stefan hadn't prepared himself for that possibility.

As he looked at Bonnie again he could tell she was in misery but was putting up a good front. She could dress herself in pretty clothes and nice jewelry to mask her pain. But Stefan was fairly sure Bonnie resembled a desiccated corpse on the inside. Would it be justice or punishment to allow two grown people to use him as the scapegoat for why they couldn't be together? Stefan couldn't have felt more like he was caught in the middle of a Shakespearean play. Who the hell was he? Hamlet? Macbeth? King Lear? Romeo? None of the above?

"All right, look," Stefan said. Bonnie peered at him. "I don't hate my brother. And I don't hate you either. Yes, I'm still upset about whatever took place between you and Damon. Yes, I know he's my brother, he'll always be my brother; nothing can change that. You were my first real love, Bonnie and now you're his. Damon and I have been through hell, but we've always managed to survive. I can be politically correct about this whole thing and give you my blessing, promise to sing at your wedding, but I'm not at that point yet. And I don't think I ever will be because I still love you."

Bonnie's heart stopped, fractured, and then began to stitch itself back together.

"But…I think I'm falling in love with someone else."

And that joy she was feeling radiating deep in her bones evaporated. Her nose tingled and she offered Stefan a tremulous smile.

Stefan reached over and grabbed her hand. "Salvatore men are notorious for not letting things go. Part of me wants to give us another shot. Part of me just wants to close the chapter for good and move on. But this all hinders on what _you _want to do. This is your call, Bonnie. What's it going to be?"

* * *

><p>The bill was paid now they were standing outside waiting for the valet to pull Bonnie's SUV around to the front. Valentine's Day was five days away and many shops around the restaurant had their front windows decorated with Valentine's themed decorations, or whatever product they were trying to push was in the color of blood.<p>

The lights of the Range Rover nearly blinded Bonnie when it arrived. She walked towards it while trying to rub warmth back into her fingers. Stefan held the door open after the valet exited the car and accepted his tip.

Bonnie faced Stefan, and smiled. "Thank you for dinner."

He nodded. "So I'll see you in a few days."

"Okay."

Stefan leaned forward and kissed her cheek. When he pulled away he allowed himself to get lost in Bonnie's eyes that were as large and luminous as a cat's. He caressed the cheek he kissed with the pad of his thumb, and then quickly pressed his lips to hers. Bonnie gave a short gasp of surprise, but didn't move an inch.

"Drive safely," Stefan advised the second he ended the kiss. "There might be ice on the roads."

"The same goes for you too, Salvatore. Call me and let me know you made it."

"And you call me and let me know you made it home in one piece."

"All right. Good night, Stefan."

"Good night, Bonnie."

Climbing behind the wheel, Bonnie snapped her seat belt on as Stefan closed the door. She tossed him one final smile before pulling away from the curb.

* * *

><p><strong>Two weeks later…<strong>

It was Friday night and he in was the heart of DC sitting on the steps of the Smithsonian American Art Museum. This was a neutral place. Not too close to Mystic Falls, and definitely miles away from New York. Damon looked out towards F Street as tourists and natives walked or drove by creating one large cacophony of noise. A slew of females did double-takes when they saw him sitting like a GQ model on the steps. A few even tried to urge their friends to go up and talk to him but ultimately chickened out.

He was used to that sort of behavior. It usually died down once people got to know him although very few people could say they knew the real Damon Salvatore.

Pulling the lapels higher on his coat, Damon tried not to let the cold air affect him.

But he hated waiting for people especially in the cold.

Damon wasn't sure how this particular scenario was going to play out. Since October he had had a variation of dreams and nightmares about coming face-to-face with Stefan. In one dream Damon had almost consistently, Stefan merely strolled up to him, punched his hand through his chest, and removed his heart. That was probably the most gruesome of the dreams he's had. In his least gruesome dream he and Stefan were kids at an overcrowded airport where they were separated, and no matter where he looked he couldn't find his brother.

He and Stefan being at odds was nothing new. In fact their relationship seemed to hinge or operate better when they had a falling out every ten years or so. He figured they were long overdue.

However, this time around things were much different. _Severely _different. If he could go back and change the past, Damon had been on the fence if he would change anything that happened. Of course he'd rather not go through the pain of thinking his brother was dead. And nope, he wouldn't want to fall in love with his brother's wife which had been such a stupid fucking decision from the get go. Damon clenched his teeth on top of one another. He added another strike to the list.

Thinking about Bonnie wasn't permissible. She screwed him over both literally and figuratively, and he owed her ass nothing. She left him and took his heart with her. She wouldn't get his soul, though. That was all Damon felt he had left.

Needless to say Damon had been undeniably surprised to receive a phone call from Stefan asking if he could meet with him in DC to talk. Damon had questioned why DC, and Stefan had given him a vague response to which Damon didn't push. He considered this the miracle of the century; that Stefan was even reaching out in the first place because he was sure his ass had been black listed for life.

As time inched by his nerves were starting to get to him. Reaching inside his coat pocket, Damon withdrew a packet of gum and popped a stick in his mouth. The lingering stench of cigarette smoke wafted by drawing his attention to the culprit. That was certainly one habit he was glad he never picked up.

"Damon?"

The man in question instantly rose to his feet and turned around. He didn't move from the step he was standing on, only looked up as Stefan descended the stairs.

Once they were only a few feet apart the brothers assessed one another. Public displays of affection had never been their thing and neither saw any reason to change it. Moreover, that didn't mean the _urge_ to hug Stefan wasn't there. Damon just got the impression that if he made any sudden moves Stefan might upper cut him.

"Hey," was the only thing Damon could think to say.

"There's a cafeteria inside…where we can…talk."

Nodding his head, Damon followed his little brother, spat out his gum, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Both brothers ordered regular black coffees that cost the same as a full tank of gas. Damon shook his head and was beginning to reconsider if living in the north was worth the cost of living. Everything was expensive as all hell.

The two brothers found a table that was far away from prying eyes and ears. They removed their coats, sat down, and then looked at everything but each other.

Damon cleared his throat. Stefan cleared his.

"So why did you want to see me?" Damon asked.

Stefan, after eyeing the packets of sweeteners decided to grab a few, ripped them open, and dumped them in his coffee. "I think its time for us to talk. We let our fists do much of the talking the first time around, and then…well after you dropped your bomb on me I wasn't much interested in hearing anything else you had to say."

"So what's changed?"

Stefan licked the coffee stirrer and took a sip. He grimaced. Now he remembered why he hated fake sugar with a passion. "I had dinner with Bonnie a couple of weeks ago."

Damon's eyes widened as his eyebrows lifted. That wasn't the explanation he had been expecting to hear, and of course it made color rise to the back of his neck before it settled in his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"Did you now?" Damon replied coolly.

"I learned that things aren't so good between you two."

"And you wanted to gloat about that?"

"No. Just stating facts."

Damon's eyes narrowed on Stefan who was trying to maintain his impassive expression, but the elder Salvatore could definitely see some haughtiness lingering on Stefan's face.

"Did she give you the same bullshit reason that she gave me?" Damon's tone of voice took on a heated edge.

Stefan shook his head. "It's not bullshit if she's right. I can see where she's coming from, Damon and Bonnie has a point. We're brothers. Blood. Family."

Damon wished he could sit still and listen to what Stefan was trying to say, but unfortunately he had an impatient streak that refused to be placated. "What are you trying to say to me, Stefan? That you're ready and willing to forgive me for falling in love with Bonnie? Or are you here to tell me that the two of you have decided to work things out? If that's the case an email or text would have sufficed."

"Damon," Stefan said calmly because he knew how much of a hothead his brother was. "This isn't going right," he mumbled more to himself than to Damon. "I didn't want to see you to rehash any of that shit. I just wanted to see _you_. Okay? We don't have to talk about Bonnie because she's not important at the moment. Chicks they come and they go, but we're brothers and that means something. And Gran wouldn't want to see us like this. So that means we need to find some way to get past all this."

Shimmering down, Damon looked over his brother and then let it go. It would probably be best if neither one of them mentioned Bonnie ever again. From what he could tell she was no longer apart of either of their lives. With time Damon was sure the sting of that revelation would lessen, but right now in an odd way—being close to Stefan made him feel close to Bonnie.

"You really think it'll be that easy?" Damon still had to poke the sleeping lion. "I haven't given you any reason to trust me again."

"When has anything in life ever been easy?" Stefan questioned and then leaned over the table. "And who said you could trust me?"

Taking a sip of coffee, Damon muttered, "Touché." Pause. "Stefan…I'm…I'm sorry for what I did."

The younger Salvatore pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know you are, Damon. We'll always be fighting each other over something."

"I guess we're just following in the cursed Salvatore family footsteps, eh?"

Stefan smiled ruefully, "I guess. How are things at work?"

"I'm heading out to Dubai at the beginning of April. I'll probably be over there for a few months trying to hammer out this deal. Other than that everything has been the same. What about you?"

"Dubai…sounds hot," Stefan smiled. Damon smirked. "I'll be opening up my own studio in LA. Closed the contract last month and renovations are set to start in March."

Damon picked up his coffee cup and tapped it with Stefan's. "I'm proud of you, little bro."

"Thanks," Stefan mumbled.

"So you're relocating to LA?" Damon queried.

Stefan nodded. "Yeah."

"Where exactly have you been all this time?"

"In Montana."

An ah-ha expression came over Damon's face. "I figured as much. So will anyone from Montana be joining you in the City of Angels?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Stefan replied vaguely.

For the next forty minutes the brothers discussed various topics making sure they steered clear of any talk about women not even Hollywood actresses. They were told to leave in a firm but friendly way by one of the cafeteria workers when the museum was closing.

"Hey you want to grab a drink?" Stefan suggested the minute they were outside. "A _real _one?"

"I'm down for whatever," Damon replied. The two brothers started walking towards Bar Louis.

Once inside they had to battle their way to the bar area and then proceeded to yell as if they were at a Redskins game in order for their drink orders to be heard. Within seconds they were swarmed by women who tried to hustle free drinks out of them. This wasn't Stefan's scene anymore, and he spent a good twenty minutes politely shooting down offers from whatever Mary Sue approached.

Damon on the other hand was much more accommodating. He winked, flirted, and kissed cheeks. Stefan certainly never envied his brother. He got his fair share of attention from the ladies, but it was never on Damon's level. How he could stand not being able to move two feet without being harassed was a wonder to Stefan, but then he knew this was Damon's element considering he was a bit of a narcissist.

Damon slapped a Corona and a shot of Johnnie Walker in Stefan's hands. The two brothers then scuffled off to a less crowded area of the bar and took in the sights.

After downing his shot and chasing it with a chug of beer, Damon pulled his lips back from his teeth and stared at his brother askance. "Is this a truce between us?"

At first Stefan pretended not hear, but then he shrugged. "Maybe it's the beginning of one. There's still a lot of stuff I need to work out in my head. But we're family. We'll always be brothers, and that's what I'm holding on to."

Damon nodded. It was certainly more than he deserved. He returned his attention back to the crowd.

Holding up a wall at a club or bar had never been his forte and he hadn't had any real fun not since…Damon blocked those thoughts from entering his mind but unfortunately it was too late. Caramel skin, green eyes, bowed lips, petite yet statuesque body filled his vision causing Damon to slump his shoulders a bit. When he inhaled deeply, the pull on his chest hurt. He wasn't even back at square one. He was at square negative one and it sucked ass big time.

But he wouldn't dwell on it. He'd kick Bonnie Bennett out of his system soon enough. Besides he had his brother back—partially—and Damon would hold on to it like a floatation device.

* * *

><p>"Oh, sorry, man," Damon said to a guy he accidentally shoulder checked as he entered the hotel where he was staying for the night. He wasn't stupid drunk just a touch inebriated, but he was coherent enough to walk in a straight line, and he was sober enough not to call attention to himself to alert the DC Police.<p>

Smiling at the lady behind the front desk, Damon went over to the bank of elevators to the right. Pressing the up arrow, he waited and started humming a little tune and snapped his fingers. The sound of a woman's laughter caught his attention prompting Damon to turn and face the lobby. When he did his eyes bugged out of their sockets. He couldn't believe it. That blissful feeling of being stuck between intoxication and sobriety all melted away until piping hot anger burst and rushed through his veins leading Damon to move away from the elevators.

He watched as the woman, completely unaware of the fact she was being followed, spoke softly into her cell phone as if trying to ease the fears of her new lover. He was livid! He wasn't sure where she was headed but when she stopped suddenly before entering the bar area of the hotel, she pivoted slowly as if she remembered she had forgotten something.

Damon went absolutely immobile. He _wanted _her to see him. He wanted her to know that he caught her red-handed about to go and have a midnight rendezvous with some jackass she probably picked up off the street. What the hell was she even doing in DC during the same weekend he would make a trip up here to see Stefan?

A cross between a growl and groan once her face was revealed to him escaped Damon. All of those feelings he had collected, bottled up, and thrown out of his emotionally available closet came rushing back in, spilling out like oil in a jack knifed tanker truck.

He watched with grim satisfaction as her mouth opened yet sound refused to come out as she attempted to yap away on her cell phone. Her finger instinctively hung up the phone, and slowly her arm lowered to her side.

"Damon…hey...w-what are you doing here?"

The man in question folded his arms tightly over his chest. If Stefan knew about this Damon would take great pleasure in hunting him down and giving him another nice thorough ass kicking for playing him for a fool once again.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied curtly.

Hurt flashed on her heart-shaped face and she finally lowered her eyes to the floor. That's right, prostrate yourself before me, you jezebel, Damon thought.

But then she lifted her head and with it those haunting emerald eyes. "I'm here for a conference that's being held at the Convention Center. What are you doing in DC?"

Damon held his chin up, haughtily. "One word—Stefan."

Bonnie nodded and slipped her phone back into her purse despite the fact it started ringing.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Damon's nostrils flared.

"It can wait." Bonnie sighed and maintained eye contact with Damon. It was more than apparent he was pissed off with her and with the decision she made. Running into him in DC after everything seemed like fate, or a very obvious coincidence, or a huge cosmic joke. Which one? Probably a little bit of all three.

Damon was almost tempted to grab her phone to see if she had been talking to Stefan, but he knew this was just the alcohol talking. He had no more right to know her comings and goings than she had of knowing his. Besides, what would it prove? Nothing and everything.

"You talked to Stefan?" Bonnie questioned.

"Yes I did."

"So that means you know."

Damon cocked his head to the side. "Know that the two of you had dinner a couple of weeks ago? Yeah, I know about that," his tone implied that he was bored with this conversation; however, he was anything but.

Bonnie pinched her lips. "And do you know about the other thing?"

"What other thing?"

"We're selling the house."

Damon blinked. "The house in Mystic Falls?" he asked for clarification realizing as soon as he asked it that it was a silly question.

"Yes, the house in Mystic Falls," Bonnie replied dubiously.

"Because you're moving with him to Los Angeles? Is that why?"

Bonnie stared at Damon quizzically. She laid a hand on her chest. "I'm not moving to LA with Stefan."

Now Damon was just confused. His kidneys were currently doing a backstroke in all the alcohol he consumed and this conversation with Bonnie was eating up what brain cells he had left. So during his short reprieve he put several facts together in his head. Bonnie was here for some type of convention. She was selling the house in Mystic Falls but she wasn't moving with Stefan to LA. All right, so where exactly did she plan to live? She couldn't be moving into the boardinghouse because it was three times the size of the townhome she and Stefan owned, and Bonnie had considered downsizing to an apartment when it was just her.

While he had been busy organizing his thoughts he failed to realize that Bonnie had closed the distance that separated them. The scent of her perfume, something light and fresh tickled his nose, and drew his attention back to the matter at hand.

He stared down at her getting lost in that face he loved so much it was a physical entity which fought for dominance inside of him. His hand was drawing up to touch her, but Damon immediately regained control of his motor functions and slammed his hand back to his side.

"So if you're not moving to LA why are you selling the house?"

"I am relocating just not to California." Pause. "I'm moving to New York."

Well, he lived in New York so other than him and possibly work there would be no other reason for Bonnie to pack up her life in Virginia, and come to his neck of the woods. He really shouldn't have downed all those shots because it was messing with his cognitive reasoning.

Damon swallowed thickly. "Why are you moving to New York? I didn't think there was anything or _anyone _you wanted in that state," he stated brusquely.

"We should probably take this conversation some place more private," Bonnie recommended and without another word led the way over to the elevator.

Unable to help himself, Damon followed like an obedient pet. He and Bonnie stood in silence as she pressed the up arrow for the lift. The silence continued once they boarded the elevator, and Bonnie pressed the number seven button. His room was located on the fifth floor.

Once they arrived, they took a turn to the left and continued down the hall to the second to last door on the right. Bonnie swiped her key card in the slot, opened the door, and snapped on the light to her suite.

The bright light stung Damon's glassy and watery eyes. He took off his coat and draped it on the nearest flat surface. Bonnie did the same and then moved over to the couch in the small sitting area. Damon joined her.

"You look like you could use some coffee," Bonnie said. She caught the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol clinging to Damon's Ralph Lauren shirt and his jeans, which added up to him patronizing a bar or club. Though he looked a little unkempt with a scruffy five o'clock shadow around his jaw, and hair that appeared as if it had been finger combed a million times, he was still annoyingly handsome.

"I probably should drink some, but later," he turned to her on the couch. "Why are you moving to New York?"

Bonnie licked her lips and replayed that moment of sitting across from Stefan at Monticello. He had asked her point blank what she wanted to do, and in the past she always had to think before answering that question, but that night the answer came so quickly that it not only shocked Stefan but her as well.

"_I want to be with Damon. I want to make things work with him." _

Stefan had sat still for a second, his face turning several shades of the rainbow before releasing all the air he collected in his lungs. Bonnie had studied his face carefully. As the color rose, faded, and drained until he appeared normal again, Stefan had nodded his head. From there they discussed selling their house and had made plans to meet with a realtor. If she wanted to be with Damon then she needed to be where he was and that was in New York. Stefan had been right. It was time the both of them closed the chapter in their book. Their house, coupled with their memories to which Bonnie would always treasure, was the only other thing standing in the way of their prospective futures.

She and Stefan shared a connection and they always would, but they had been treading on two different paths. Letting him go was not easy.

Back in the present, Bonnie tentatively pulled Damon closer by the back of his neck. "I want to move to New York so I can be with the man I love."

Damon couldn't blink, and his ears which were still partially ringing from the music that blared at Bar Louis, couldn't have heard properly.

"Ah…" he stammered, "but I was sure that if Stefan popped back up in the picture that you'd throw up the deuces sign up at him, too. I mean what about all that crap you spewed at me about not wanting to come in between me and my brother? What the hell did the two of you discuss at this dinner?"

Bonnie shrunk away from Damon and then got off the couch altogether. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy. She had given Damon so much hope and then she crushed it right in front of his face, tucked tail and booked it back to Mystic Falls. He didn't chase after her. He didn't call her and she didn't call him. Yes all of this appeared to be coming out of nowhere, but Bonnie was tired of fighting the truth. She was tired of living up to the world's expectation of what a woman was supposed to do when faced with a situation like this. Honestly she wanted to do the right thing, and the right thing was to step out of the way, and let Damon and Stefan handle the rift between them. Bonnie could do that. She _had _done that.

Believe it or not, Stefan had been the one to call her and tell her that he was going to talk to Damon. He certainly didn't have to do that, and he hadn't promised anything, but it was a start.

"Bonnie?"

She turned to face Damon. "We…we talked about our futures. He told me about the studio he's opening and…he told me about Leah. He's found someone who can make him happy, who makes him happy. He suggested I do the same. And that's what I'm going to do."

Damon ran frustrated hands through his hair. "I don't understand this. So everything is supposed to fall back into place because my brother…in his own way gave you his blessing?"

"I wouldn't exactly say Stefan _gave_ his blessing. He's trying but he's not exactly over everything. It would be unrealistic on both our ends to think he'd ever be a hundred percent okay with us…granted if there is or will be an us…it's all entirely up to you."

"Don't lay this down at _my_ feet. I told you how I felt. You know where I stand; and now some weeks later you're willing to move to New York when you were just as willing to leave me in the dust! And you're doing this because you_ think_ you love me?"

Bonnie wanted to scream. She couldn't understand why Damon was being so difficult about this. Okay, granted he had his reasons to be, but still…

"I know I love you, Damon!" she argued. "I never questioned that. I only questioned the appropriateness of us being together. But I don't care anymore about what anyone has to say because I'm in love with you. And this is my life and I'm going to live it how I choose."

He shot off the couch. "Then prove it! Bring your ass here and kiss me."

Just as she was prepared to hurl out another rebuttal to his argument, Bonnie stopped and blinked at him. Damon's scowl of a moment ago morphed into a semi-angelic smirk that turned devilish in a New York minute.

One foot moved in front of the other and she was in grabbing distance. Damon caught her by the arms and pulled her forward.

"I need you to be sure about this, Bonnie. I don't want you coming to me in a week, or a month, or a year saying you think you made a mistake. That you picked the wrong brother."

Tears lined the bottom of Bonnie's eyes. "It was never about me picking, Damon," she said softly. "It was about me following my heart."

Damon smirked and then lowered his head as Bonnie leaned on her toes. Their lips touched gently at first. There was an exchange of breath and then finally their lips were sealed, joined together. Damon released Bonnie's arms who eagerly wound them around his neck as his went around her waist. They clutched one another, increased the pressure of their kiss. He grabbed her ass. She giggled and then slipped her tongue in his mouth.

The road they were about to embark on would be a difficult and hard one, but then again the course of true love never did run smooth.

The End.

**A/N: This will officially be my last and final triangle love story. They are simply too complicated and messy and gut wrenching. Being the author I still had no idea what the ending should be. When I first started writing this it had been with Bamon as the endgame, but then when I got into the Stefonnie flashbacks, I switched to their side, and then somewhere past the mid-point I was thinking Bonnie should be noble and walk away from both brothers. But then watching 4x15 and seeing the Bamon hug kind of sealed the deal with this puppy. I really do believe that Bonnie and Stefan could have made things work if given time, and I didn't want to go with Damon simply because he was never picked "first", but I'm okay with this ending in that everything isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows. No weddings, no babies, nothing that says everything has been wrapped up with a nice shiny bow. All pairings Defan/Stefonnie/Bamon are still works in progress so for those who were campaigning for Stefonnie, I'm so sorry, and I'm not being sarcastic, I really truly am. There's just something undeniable about Bamon. So please don't be mad at me, this was not an easy decision to make. But thank you so so much to everyone who has followed, favored, and reviewed this controversial piece of work ;) Love you guys so much! Whew, I'm going on vacation now. **


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